


Wish You Were Here

by aba_daba_do



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book: Journal 3, Canon Divergence - Sock Opera, Deathfic, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, More characters and tags to come, Original Character(s), Ship what you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-11-01 19:05:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 99,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10928106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aba_daba_do/pseuds/aba_daba_do
Summary: Alternate Universe. During her puppet show, Mabel gets too caught up in her own affairs to recognize the trouble Dipper is in. However, by the time she realizes her mistake it's too late. Now having to finish out the summer alone, Mabel vows to stay on the path Dipper started and figure out the mysteries to the town herself. Meanwhile, Dipper remains stuck in the mindscape, where he meets a mysterious prophet. The question is: how much of Gravity Falls will change? And how much stays the same?//Contains spoilers from: season 2, Journal 3 (book), Lost Legends, and other companion guides//Final edits complete!





	1. Sock Opera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing on with her puppet show, Mabel thinks Dipper can handle himself and Bill just a while longer. He can't. 
> 
> //Graphic depictions of violence/blood/gore/major character death

“I’m giving you away, you are a woman now. Waddles, the rings,” Mabel did her best Grunkle Stan impression as Waddles appeared on his cue, two gold rings in his mouth. Her play was going just as she had anticipated. No better than she had anticipated. There was a full house, and Gabe loved it! This was her chance to get her epic summer romance.

She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with the the back of her arm. The socks puppets made her hands itch and the lights were so hot on the black stage. But that wasn’t what was making her sweat so much.

She couldn’t help but think about Dipper. He sounded so scared, and he was a floating puppet. Okay, that was actually pretty cool and kind of funny. She should have taken some pictures. But he could handle himself for just a little while longer, right? There would be plenty of time after the show to defeat Bill. They did it once before. They could do it again. Right? But what if it wasn’t okay? What if Dipper really was going to be a sock puppet forever? What would Grunkle Stan say? What would she say to Mom and Dad when she came home with a floating sock instead of a twin?

“Call for the Reverend.” Mabel jerked her head up. What was that? “Call for the Reverend,” Grenda prompted to her from stage left, lowering the microphone of her headset.

In the silence, Mabel realized she hadn’t spoken her next line. Everyone was waiting for her. Dipper agreed to play the Reverend. Then she remembered. That wasn’t Dipper. That wasn’t Dipper at all and he was in trouble. The silence kept eating and eating and eating. Where was Dipper? She hadn’t seen him floating around anywhere since she left him in the dressing room. Was he okay? No. Probably not. He was scared and alone. She needed to get the Journal. She needed to stop Bill. Why was she wasting time?

She ripped the sock puppets off her hands and jumped to her feet. It was like she could see every face in the audience. Grunkle Stan, Soos, Wendy.... Gabe. Oh Gabe, in his nice suit with his pony tail. He was just so cute. Her words got clogged in her throat. What was she going to do? Was it too late? Her face felt so hot and her mouth was like chewing on fabric. “I’m sorry everyone, but there’s been an emergency. I have to go save my brother from an evil triangle!” She didn’t look back on the muffled confusion of the audience she worked so hard to get as she ran towards the stage right ladder up to the catwalks. Her knees hurt from pressing them so far into the stage. But that didn’t matter, she had to make things right.

The farther off stage she got the darker it felt. The metal rungs of the ladder were cold on her palms and as she climbed she could feel every needle prick and hot glue burn she had accumulated in the past week. Everything hurt. She kept climbing, trying to use as much strength as she had in her arms and tossing the hair out of her eyes. She pulled herself up to the top of the catwalks and scrambled towards the giant wedding cake that hung suspended from the ceiling by thick ropes. She had spent a whole day making that with Soos. It was one of the best days she had in Gravity Falls, and now she wished it never happened. But the Journal would still be in there.

She climbed over the edge of the railing, the cake just a few feet away from her suspended from its ropes. The catwalks creaked and shook with each step. Beneath her the place was scrambling. Emergency? What kind of emergency? Was this part of the show? Should someone call the police? Mabel pulled one of her hands from the railing, reaching out towards the wedding cake. If she could just see inside it.... She slipped.

The next thing she felt was her shoulder and head slam into the cake in one swift motion. There was a momentary sensation of falling and woozieness, and then it came to a halt. Mabel winced as she pulled herself upright. Her palms pressed against the bare wood. “Where is it,” she mumbled, looking around for the Journal. Her vision blurred and her hands fell uselessly where ever she dropped them. “Where is it?”

“Looking for this, Shooting Star?”

Every part of Mabel’s body froze, down to her atoms. She peered up. The lights above hurt her eyes, foggy shades of purple and orange and red. But she recognized that voice. Dipper stood over her, one hand gripping to the thick rope that held her suspended in the cake. The other clutched to the Journal. Except it wasn’t Dipper. It couldn’t be. Not with yellow eyes and a grin that showed far too much teeth and gum. Mabel caught her breath. “Bill-Dipper. Bipper.”

Bill laughed at that, though it was hard to tell if he really found it funny or was just trying to tease her. His expressions were so hard to read as his skin paled and almost seemed to loosen. “I will admit that for a while I was worried you’d beat me to it. But let’s face it. Who would sacrifice everything they’ve worked for just for their dumb sibling?”

“Please, don’t hurt him. You got what you wanted. Just let him go.” Mabel reached out with one hand, though realizing there was nothing she could do. Maybe if she could pull herself up, she could fight him off. Just like the first time. Bill grinned and leaned forward on the catwalks, until his whole body hovered over hers, just an inch from falling over himself.

“Oh please don’t hurt him. Let him go.” he mocked, raising his voice to mimic hers. “Now you care? You didn’t seem to have a problem taking this book for your play, or ditching him when he needed you. I’ll be taking care of him soon enough! So how about I spare you the trouble; you can share in his fate.”

“Fate?”

“You leave my sister alone!” Mabel jerked her head but couldn’t see a body for the voice. But she knew it was Dipper. A sock puppet wrapped around Bill’s hand and pulled. Mabel could barely see the struggle. Bill trying to shake Dipper off but not wanting to risk the journal. But Dipper was going to be no match for Bill, Mabel knew that, and so did he.

“You want me to leave her alone,” Bill shouted. “Fine! How’s this?”

Bill let go of the rope and she felt herself fall. It was a moment of sheer weightlessness, her legs rising over the wooden bottom of the wedding cake. Her hair tossing into her face. Not enough time for her to scream. All she saw was a disappearing black coat and the bright, burning lights. The wedding cake splintered on the ground. One piece, two pieces, a thousand pieces shattering beneath her until she found herself slamming down into the ground. She tumbled, every bone in her body sure to slam into the hard floor. Her mouth tasted like blood and sawdust. A high pitched whine blasted against her ears. She wanted to get up, she wanted to go after him. Her hand was the only thing that could move as she grasped at one of the remaining puppets. The felt was nice and soft, and the glitter glue bumpy. She gripped it between her fingers and didn't let go.

“Mabel? Mabel?” She opened her eyes. Grunkle Stan leaned over her, the end of his red tie just a few centimeters above her nose. She felt his hands slip under her back and legs. Grunkle Stan had carried her lots of times on his shoulders, but she never thought he’d cradle her like that. She winced and tried to pull her eyes as wide open as she could.

“Grunkle Stan?” her voice came in low whisper. “Where’s Dipper? We need to help him.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He paused, pursing his lips. “Nothing looks broken. Let’s get you home.”

“No!” she shouted, though her voice came in a whisper. And as Grunkle Stan lifted her over the broken remains of her play, her eyes caught a glimpse of something off to the side of the stage. A dusty black coat. And a pair of yellow eyes. And then they were gone. “No, we need to help Dipper. He needs me. Where is he going? Come back!” She reached outwards at nothing but the air.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Mabel. He’s probably off being weird somewhere.” Stan pushed through the crowd of concerned (and slightly angry) play goers, telling them that the show was over and to get out. And then there was Gabe, shaking his head and leaving. Now she had lost him too. What had she done? Mabel did her best to struggle against Stan, but could feel every bump and bruise on her body. She was suddenly so tired. So unwilling to move against the pain. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Soos and Wendy, following behind with a devotion. Wait...Soos! That was it!

“Soos!” she strained her voice. He looked up at her, mouth slightly ajar for lack of words and emotion. “It’s Bill, the triangle guy! He’s back and he’s got Dipper. You need to find him before it’s too late.”

Stan looked over his shoulder, still struggling to keep Mabel in his arms. “You actually know what she’s going on and on about?”

Soos straightened out his hat. “Yes, I do, Mr. Pines. Well, kind of. I understood enough of that. Not really. But she’s right, someone has to go find Dipper.”

Stan’s voice suddenly became a lot less harsh as he looked back down at Mabel. “He really is in trouble, isn’t he?”

“Yes!” she pleaded.

“Alright. Let’s split up. Wendy, you stay here and look around the area. Soos, you head into the forest. Mabel and I will check back at the Shack.”

“You got it, Mr. Pines,” Soos said, running out the front door. Wendy only nodded and then burst in the direction of backstage, yelling at play-goers to get out of her way.

Stan carried Mabel out to his car, setting her down on the backseat. “What’s going on here, Mabel? You canceled the show and then next thing I know you’re falling from the ceiling and something is wrong with Dipper? I swear he was just fine this morning.” He climbed into the driver’s seat and took off before even buckling his seat-belt.

“It’s not Dipper!” Every word sputtered from her mouth like a broken faucet, spilling everywhere. “It’s Bill. He’s an evil triangle guy. He-he entered your mind, and now he possessed Dipper. He stole the Journal and ran off.”

“Slow down. Let’s take this one step at a time. Who’s Bill?”

“He’s… He’s a demon. I think. We fought him before, in your mind. You were just asleep so you probably don’t remember it. We defeated him but now he’s back. He possessed Dipper’s body and he’s going to hurt him.”

“You’ve lost me.” Mabel pressed her knees up to her chest. Her stomach kept lurching; she thought she was going to be sick. The back seat of the car felt so empty and the scenery passing by felt strangely out of tune.

“I… I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like you said. Magic is real. And now Dipper is going to get hurt and it’s all because I didn’t listen to him earlier.”

She looked down at the carpeted floor of the car. Most of it was fuzz and glitter from her puppets and various candy wrappers. And a note. Slightly crumpled but left in obvious display. It was meant to be found. She reached down for it, fingers trembling. She didn’t recognize the handwriting, but it was clear who wrote it.

**Note to self: Possessing people is hilarious! To think of all the sensations I’ve been missing out on--burning, stabbing, drowning. It’s like a buffet table of fun! Once I destroy that journal, I’ll enjoy giving this body it’s grand finale-- by throwing it off the water tower! Best of all, people will just think Pine Tree lost his mind, and his mental form will wander in the mindscape forever. Want to join him, Shooting Star?**

Mabel’s gasp was inaudible, there were no words, no sounds that could accurately describe her fear. Just silence. Everything felt caught inside her chest. “The water tower!” She finally shouted it. “Grunkle Stan, that’s where he’s going! We need to get there before he does. We need to stop him.”

“Stop him from what?”

“Hurting Dipper. Bill’s gonna… he’s…” she didn’t want to say it because then it would be true.

“Ahh nevermind!” Stan swerved the car around, foot slammed onto the gas. Mabel’s heart was pounding in her head, her chest, even in the pulse of her thumb. No. No. No. Every beat of her heart said that word. To know that Dipper could, or already was. No it wouldn’t they were going to make it in time. But they were on the other side of town. Who knew how fast Bill was going to be? She just had to believe they would make it. She had to believe Dipper was still fighting back. She looked over, and that’s when she saw it--lying next to her on the seat. Dipper’s sock puppet. The one he had been using to talk to her. Abandoned. He was helpless. Without the sock puppet could he even do anything to stop Bill? Could he even speak to her? Had Bill already… Mabel swallowed on the word.

Stan drove as recklessly as he always did, but this time with purpose. Each of his turns made her stomach lurch more. Her body tumbled with it, bruises and splinters knocking into the seat and door-- there was no thought to put her seat-belt on. She thought she was going to be sick. She clenched the note until it was wet with sweat in her palm. The time that passed felt like forever, or like maybe there was no time at all. She kept watching the scenery, trying to figure out each passing minute. How long would it take them to drive there? How long would it take someone to run to the water tower from the theater? She didn’t know.

The car veered up to the water tower with such a force that her whole body knocked into the vinyl door and glass window. But that wasn’t enough to deter her. She stumbled her way to her feet, the wind pushing her hair into her eyes and mouth. Everything seemed quiet at first.

“Hey, Shooting Star.” Mabel looked up, a black figure at the top of the water tower, feet pressed onto the outer rim of the railing. Bill braced one hand on the rail, and let himself lean back as far as he could. Mabel could barely see the details of his face, or the reverend suit--now disheveled. “It’s been fun. But I think it’s time to make like a pine tree and burn out.” And then he let go, arms out like he was bearing a cross.

“No!” Mabel screamed. She didn’t realize it, but she was already running faster than she had ever brought herself to run before. She didn’t even run that fast from monsters.

“Holy Moses! Kid!” Stan followed after Mabel, but kept his eyes trained on the sky. And then there was the falling, the falling…

Mabel could feel the breath burning her lungs. The will to move faster, forcing herself to the limits she didn’t even know she had. She could see Stan, only a few steps behind her. He was entirely unsteady--she had seen Stan worried before, but not like this. She had never seen him scared before.

...and then crash.

The crack he made when he hit the ground was sickening, the sound of bone crunching inside of skin. Mabel’s feet seemed to skid on the grass and dirt. For a moment she couldn’t get closer. It was the shock, the moment of disbelief and fear.

And then she moved forward, scrambling and tripping over her own feet. She ran over to him, her voice wavering when she spoke the tears already pouring. “Dipper?” There was no answer. And of course there was none. Necks shouldn’t be turned like that. Arms don’t bend that way. And blood should not be oozing from a person’s skull, now smashed and spilling everywhere. No… don’t look too close at the blood or his brains clumping with the grass. Mabel reached out, gripping her fingers around that awful black coat and shook him. “Come on, bro! You gotta get up!” And his open eyes stared at her. The slit yellow eyes were gone, the only tell-tale of what happened, and replaced with those eyes she knew. Soft, and brown, and now entirely unseeing.

Her knees buckled beneath her. Standing was impossible now. She wanted to throw up, or maybe to scoop out her heart so it would stop hurting so much. Her throat constricted and her mouth tasted like vile. Her finger's brushed his hair and down the back of his head, drawing back wet with fresh warm blood. “Dipper?” This time she said it, not expecting him to answer, but expecting the universe to explain itself to her.

And something smelt like burning. Mabel thought for a moment that she could see smoke out of the corner of her now watery eyes. Wait, that was definitely smoke. She looked up just enough to see it, lying in the greenery that grew all around the bottom of the water tower’s stilts. Something red and burning. She crawled to it, desperate to have it. Grasping the Journal by its binding she pulled it close and smothered out the fire with her sweater. It stung her fingers on impact. Most of the leather cover was blackened and changed. The red now withered away and the fingers of the six-fingered hand curling in on themselves. The edges of the pages crumbled when she pressed it to her chest.

“Mabel.” She felt Stan’s hand grip her shoulder and force her to look at him. She never thought she would have to see Stan cry. Dropping down beside her, Stan embraced her in both arms, pulling her so close and with no intention of ever letting go. His fingers stroked the back of her hair. She could feel every hiccup of his chest, each gasp for air and meaning. And she could feel each of his breaths, growing more and more laborious. And he muttered over and over. “No. Not again.”

There was no comfort in Stan's closeness. All she wanted was to be close to her brother, to scoop him up and put him back together. To cradle him in her arms like he was merely sleeping. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to move. All she could do was sob. There was no sound like it. Not a scream. Not a whimper. But a wailing, a mournful scorning.

And it was all her fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!  
> As I'm going back through this fic to make some edits and clear up typos, I'll be leaving little notes along the way. This was a fic I desperately wanted to write since Sock Opera aired. I knew we were looking at a lot of big What Ifs and potential wrong turns for characters. But I decided to wait until a few months before my blacklight Journal came, just to make sure I was up to date with all the little details. It was also a fic that felt like a personal milestone and represented a lot of things to me. And even though it made me cry... twice... I enjoyed it.


	2. In-Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel returns home for the funeral, and the remainder of the summer. Forced to make the decision on whether she should stay home with her grieving parents or return to Gravity Falls and finish what Dipper started- Stan gives her some advice and reveals some long hidden secrets.

Mabel couldn’t stop reliving it. The play. When the police came to take him away from her, desperately reaching for his one limp hand. Calling Soos. Calling Wendy. Calling everyone. Calling her parents. The pain and grief that tore her rib cage in half when they wept. Trying to sleep. Pretending to sleep. Pacing around the now half-empty bedroom in the middle of the night saying his name. And the blood--all that blood.

It was still impossible to believe that Dipper was gone. The things he left behind were the only evidence that he even once existed. All she had left of him was the Journal. Some parts of pages lost and burned away, but still surviving. And why did that stupid book get to survive instead of her brother?

She pulled her sweater high over her head until only the tops of her brown curls showed above and her black shoes underneath. The simulated darkness felt good. There was no reality. Just her alone in the comfort of soft knitted clothing and the smell of yarn.

Mabel rocked back on her bed, now stripped of all its sheets and blankets. The whole attic was stripped clean, completely gutted of all life. All of her posters of boy bands taken down and her sweaters put away into suitcases. It smelt like sour dust and bleach.

Someone knocked on the door. “Mabel?” Wendy walked in with no regard to whether or not she was invited. Knocking was more of a formality than anything. 

“Go away. Mabel’s in sweater town.”

Wendy dropped a backpack at the foot of the bed. With a sigh, she unbuttoned her green flannel, draped it over her head, and sunk down next to Mabel on the bare mattress. “Flannel city would like to talk to you.” No response. Wendy looked down at all the suitcases, sweater sleeves sticking out of them. And of course the boxes, filled with Dipper’s things that Soos had volunteered to pack that morning. “Stan tells me you’re going back to California today.”

The head beneath the sweater seemed to nod.

“I wish I was going with you guys. But Stan said it should just be the two of you for now.”

The head nodded again, but this time it spoke. “You’re coming for the funeral, right?”

“I couldn’t forgive myself if I missed it. Soos and I are leaving just a little bit after you do. There’s going to be a memorial service here tonight for everyone else who can't make it.” Mabel clenched her fists around the hem of her sweater.

“If I could go back,” Wendy continued, just to keep the silence at bay, “and tell myself this was going to happen I would have paid more attention to him. Soos told me everything about Bill. I had no idea any of that ever happened. I keep thinking that maybe I could’ve done something if I knew.” Wendy swiped at her eyes and cheeks before any tears could touch them. “I wish I hadn’t rejected him at the bunker. Dipper was so sweet, you know? I just wish I had said yes to make him happy.”

“No,” Mabel sniffed. “You did the right thing. He understood. He wouldn’t have wanted you to lie about your feelings just to make him happy.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Wendy sighed and leaned against her palms and wrists. “I went back to the theater, to help clean up. And I found something I think you should have.”  Mabel popped her head out from the hole of her sweater, as Wendy leaned down for her backpack. She held it out to Mabel, like the bearing of torch.

It was Dipper’s hat. The one that she thought was so stupid with the big blue pine tree on it. The material felt well worn and soft under her fingers. She put it up to her face, her nose and her lips. It smelt like him. Like his hair. How he never washed his clothes or took a shower. But also like the forest, like dirt and pine needles. She held it against her heart. It wouldn’t be enough. But it made him feel close.

Mabel didn’t think it was possible to cry so much. But before she could stop herself, her cheeks were already wet.

“Listen, Mabel,” Wendy said. “I’ve seen lots of amazing things this summer. But nothing as amazing as you and your brother. I don’t know if there is a way to fix this or make it better but if anyone can figure it out, it’s you. I believe that you can uncover the mysteries of this town. You can stop Bill. You can do everything that Dipper wanted to. I’m not sure if it’s fate or destiny, but that Journal is still here for a reason. And that reason is you.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. And I’ll be there for you, every step of the way. No matter what.”

“Thanks, Wendy.” She mustered as much of a smile as she could. The hat felt alive in her fingers, some pushing force that drove her forward. She had to do it for Dipper. Bowing her head, she slipped the hat on over her hair. A constant reminder.

“Well, come on. I’ll walk you downstairs. It’s time for you to go.”

\------

Grunkle Stan shifted in the seat of his car and gripped his hands around the steering wheel. Mabel kept her head down and arms wrapped around her backpack (now containing Journal 3). Stan sighed and trained his eyes on the road. They were already 3 hours into their drive, and so far neither one of them had said a word.

“Listen, kiddo. I know this is all too hard, but please talk to me. I can’t have my favorite niece not talking to me.”  

“I don’t know what to say. Everything feels empty.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling all too well. I can remember driving to your Grandpa Shermie’s funeral. You’re too young to remember that, though; you were still so little.” He laughed to himself, “I can remember how you lit up that whole room. You asked everyone there to play with you. Dipper was the opposite. He kept mostly to himself.” A silence came over, Stan. His smiled faded to a frown. “I just can’t believe I have to drive to another one. I was banking on everyone I knew outliving me.”

Mabel didn’t answer. She didn’t even consider that she or Dipper could die, be it in their youth or of old age. It never once crossed her mind that she could go from being a twin, to an only child in an instant. She never considered a life without Dipper. And now that life was all she had.

“Grunkle Stan?”

“Yeah, pumpkin?”

“I promise I’ll do my best to outlive you.”

\------

She and Stan had arrived in California just in time for the funeral, and in just enough time to see the hearse pull up to the edge of the street. The day was beautiful, it would have been the perfect day for mystery hunting. But those days were over.  

She greeted her parents at the door of the building (it was clearly her father's choice to bury him in the Jewish cemetery with the rest of the family). When she saw their faces she felt something rip apart inside her. She held tight to the remnants of her broken family as she wailed. She was surprised she still contained enough water and energy to cry as much as she did over the past 2 days. Stan didn’t say much to her parents. He greeted them, hugged them, and then walked inside. Her dad lifted her up and carried her inside, even though she was much too big to be carried. 

There are lots of things people could say about funerals. That they were nice. Or thoughtful. That all the relatives, and friends, and people who only cared until recently came. The worst part was hearing Dipper’s real name. It had been so long since she actually heard it that she actually forgot he had a real name. Mason. That was the name everyone kept saying.

Sorry to hear about Mason. Mason was too young to go. Mason is in a better place now.

She wanted to yell at everyone to shut up. She didn’t. Instead she spend the majority of the day sitting at the foot of the coffin, and resting her head against it. Looking inside made her stomach lurch up into her throat, to the point where she had slammed the lid shut. Her parents had elected for a closed coffin-- the sight to horrid for the guests to see. But she had to look. She had to see him one last time. They buried him in a suit that they hated from their aunt's wedding a year prior, and brushed his hair so that you could see his birthmark. He looked so pale and waxy-- Mabel thought dead people were supposed to look like they were sleeping but he looked positively dead. Not that the open hole in his skull helped.

Everyone would try to talk to her as she sat by the coffin. They thought they could console her or try to make her smile. Everyone seemed to think that the more love they gave her the less it would hurt.

Soos and Wendy were the only people who gave her some space. Soos cried the whole time, though, constantly blowing his nose as loudly as possible. He wore his Pterodactyl Bros shirt too, making him the only person to wear a color that wasn’t black. He kept claiming it wasn’t true. To blame the triangle guy. Everyone ignored him.

Wendy gave the best eulogy out of everyone. She stomped her way up to the microphone, despite the rule that only the family was allowed to speak. She told everyone stories about Dipper, about how brave he was. None of them were about the mystery hunts though. They were all little things. Each time he made her laugh. The first time they met. Wendy had the whole room smiling.

Mabel didn’t give a eulogy. Sitting at the edge of the coffin was eulogy enough, though she wrote several drafts of it. Some were stories about Dipper growing up. Some just about the summer. There was one draft, where she told them the truth. Still, there were no words. She couldn’t tell anyone the truth or that it was all her fault. They’d never believe her. They’d blame it on her grief or on her imagination. They’d probably call it poetic. The demon that stole her brother away, and her own carelessness.

But she went through the motions of the day. She was quiet when it was time to be quiet. She stood when it was time to stand. She threw a handful of dirt in the grave when it was time to bury him. She watched all of it from underneath the shadow of Dipper’s pine tree hat.

And when it was over all the relatives and family friends went back to her home, which was now slightly more empty despite being filled with people. They socialized in their low and somber voices. Mabel didn’t want to do any of that. Instead she trekked her way up the stairs to her bedroom, and closed the door behind her the NO BOYS ALLOWED sign flapping against the door.

The walls were so pink in there. She didn’t remember choosing such an obnoxious color scheme, but she did--last summer when her mom said she and Dipper could re-paint their rooms from the baby pinks and blues. There were so many Sev’ral Timez posters on the walls, and a mound of stuffed animals on the bed. They made her miss Waddles. Stan said it wouldn’t be appropriate to bring him along.

“Uncle Stanford, can we speak to you alone upstairs?” She perked up. That was her dad’s voice. Through the door, his voice was muffled, like he was underwater. But what could he want to talk to Grunkle Stan about? Hadn’t they said everything on the phone?

“Sure. What is it?” Their footsteps pounded against the carpeted steps, a horde of people coming closer to her.

“Well, it’s just that… I’m sorry but we don’t think you should be around Mabel anymore. This will be your last visit with her.”

“What? No! You can’t do that. I’m her Grunkle. She needs me now more than ever.” He started to raise his voice, Mabel could even imagine each of his hand gestures. Up in the air. Pointing. Swiping at the empty air.

Now her mom spoke up. “Stan, we said we weren’t going to blame you for our son’s death. But we left you in charge of our children and you didn’t even recognize the warnings signs that our son was considering suicide. That must have had something to do with you or Gravity Falls because he was never like that at home.”

“There were no warning signs! I’m telling you, Dipper was his usual self with me. He was a happy kid--a little paranoid and over the top, but happy. You can ask Mabel. You have to trust us that this was… this wasn’t him.”

Not being able to tell the truth hurt. She didn’t want everyone thinking that Dipper killed himself. She wanted everyone to remember him the way he was. But the lie was the only thing that protected them now. This was when even magic and mystery began to fail.

“That’s not the point, Uncle Stan,” her dad said. “We just don’t think it’s for the best if you’re around Mabel right now. Maybe in a few years. But right now she needs to be home with us. We need to grieve as a family.”

“No!” She and Stan yelled at the same time. How could she not see Grunkle Stan again? Or not go back to Gravity Falls? That was impossible. She had to see him again. Stan was the only person who saw what she saw… all that blood.

“You don’t understand,” Stan argued, now yelling. “Mabel needs me now more than ever. I’m the only person who can understand what she’s going through. I was there too. I know how she feels. I know what it’s like to lose a twin! I know you want to grieve with your daughter. But she needs me! Not you!”

Mabel felt the breath catch in her lungs. A twin. Stan had a twin.

She pressed her ear farther against the door.

“Uncle Stan…”

Everything in the house shook with Grunkle Stan’s voice. “Don’t do this to her. Let her stay with me for the rest of the summer. You can’t isolate her from everything and expect the pain to go away. She needs to be in Gravity Falls. And she needs to be with me! I know you think I’m not a good uncle, but you’re wrong. I’d do anything for your children. Just let me talk to Mabel.”

“Alright,” her dad muttered. “You can talk to her. If this is what Mabel wants, we’ll...we’ll consider it. We just want her to deal with this in a healthy way.”

“She needs to be with us,” her mom countered. “Our son is dead and I am not letting my daughter, my only remaining child, out of my sight. I’m not losing her too.”

“Mabel has always been… Mabel, dear. She goes about things her own way. We need to listen to what she needs.”

Next thing she knew, there was a knock on the door. “Mabel? Are you in there?”

She pried herself away an attempt to make it look like she wasn't listening. “Come in, Grunkle Stan.”

He walked through the door and looked around. His hand didn’t leave the door knob. “Wow your room is pink.” Then his eyes settled on her. “I uhh, don’t know how much of that you heard.”

“All of it.”

“Then I guess we have a lot to talk about.” He closed the door behind him and sat down on  the edge of her bed. Mabel followed behind, sitting down so that she could lay her head against his arm. He smelt faintly of alcohol and cigars but mostly of the Mystery Shack, dust and mold.

Mabel sucked in her breath. “You told my parents you know what it’s like to lose a twin.”

“There’s a lot of things I haven’t told you,” Stan rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at her. There were also lots of things she didn’t tell him. “I’ve been keeping secrets from you all summer, and I’m not proud of that. I did it to protect you, and look at where that got us.” He sighed and put a hand on her back, the warmth of his palm sinking into her spine. “My real name isn’t Stanford Pines. It’s Stanley Pines. Stanford was--is-- my twin brother. And he’s the guy who wrote the Journals.”

“What?” Mabel felt all sorts of emotions: anger, confusion, doubt, guilt, but also the recognition that she still loved him despite those feelings.. There was no name for that type of combination. Dipper had stayed awake for days trying to figure out who the author was. That was probably how he got tricked by Bill too. And Stan knew the whole time.

“I feel horrible that Dipper wanted to know who wrote it, and that I never told him. I even have the other two Journals. But my brother, he and I didn’t get along very well. He was a scientist living in the Mystery Shack before it became the Shack. I was uhm… well I had come up with some interesting new business ideas that involved living in my car. One day he called me up and asked me to take the first Journal far away. He was building this crazy portal to another dimension. He looked terrible, like he hadn’t slept in days. I told him no and we fought, and he ended up getting sucked into that thing. I took his identity and faked my own death. For the past 30 years I’ve been trying to get him back. I have no idea if he’s dead or alive. Sometimes it’s easier just to believe he’s dead. I didn't want the same thing to happen to you. And look at what happened.”

Mabel sighed, as if that breath could release all the tension in her chest. “I don’t know if I want to be angry with you or not. I feel anger-fused. Confused and angry. Dipper could still be here if he knew. We wouldn’t have gone looking for mysteries if we knew.” She rubbed at her nose with the back of her sleeve. “But this is my fault too, so I guess I can’t be angry. I'm guilt-fused.”

“How is this your fault?”

“Dipper warned me about Bill. He told me he needed help and I ignored him.”

“You never finished telling me about this Bill guy. What’s up with him?”  

Mabel nodded, and tried to sit herself upright. The air in her lungs didn’t want to stay, but she made it stay, long enough to get each of her words out. She tried to tell it exactly how she remember it. It should have been a fun story to tell about kittens for fists and winning battles. Instead it only made her sad. But she kept talking through it, trying to figure out the common trend. There was none. It all felt meaningless.

Stan nodded, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “A dream demon, huh? Why am I not surprised? That sounds exactly like something Ford would get himself wrapped up in.”

Mabel paused. “So it’s possible that your brother could be alive and he could come back?”

“The only way is to know is get this portal back up. But I’ve been at it for 30 years and haven’t figured it out.”  

“Then I want to help you. If you can have a chance at getting your twin brother back you should take it. I want to help. And he did write the Journals, maybe he could help us with Bill.”

“Mab-”

She cut him off. “I heard you tell Mom and Dad I should spend the rest of the summer with you. I want to go back to Gravity Falls.” She reached into her backpack for Journal 3, the remainder of the black char rubbing onto her hands. She pried it open to its most recent page. A note taped onto the paper.

“Bill left this to taunt me. But it says that Dipper is stuck somewhere in the mindscape--it’s like a dimension of dreams. That means he’s gotta be a ghost right? We just have to figure out how to talk to him.” She passed it off to Stan, who nodded slowly and solemnly as he read. “I’m going to make things right again. I’m going to defeat Bill Cipher and I’m going to get Dipper back. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Stan chuckled under his breath, and put a hand on Mabel’s head, feeling the pine tree hat on his fingers. “That’s my girl. Fighting back.” He stood up, placing his hands on his knees for balance. “Whelp. I guess we should go talk to your parents. They aren’t going to be happy about it.”

 ------

Her parents weren’t happy about it at all. They kept trying to convince her to stay home. That she was making the wrong choice. But when Mabel explained that Stan really did know what she was going through--they listened. It was a painful goodbye when she left, but leaving felt better than staying. As much as she loved her parents, she had to keep going. Summer was not going to end.

The car bumped and jostled on the road and Stan’s music was old and tasteless, but at least there was music this time. The sun blinded her eyes through the window, another perfect day for mystery hunting. Occasionally Stan would reach out to tap her arm or the bridge of the pine tree hat.

She braced the Journal on her knees, and pulled some of her glitter pens out from her backpack. There was so much to say, and only one person she wanted to talk to.

**Dear Dipper,**

**I went to your funeral yesterday. Despite the spelling, there is no FUN in funeral. But I think you knew that. Mom and Dad miss you a lot. I miss you too. And I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I know that can’t change anything. I decided to do something selfish, and my mistake got you killed. I’m going to work to make it up to you. Ice cream sandwiches for a week. Consider it an IOU.**

**And get this… STAN HAS A TWIN BROTHER TOO! That’s the real Stanford Pines and I guess he got sucked into this portal thingy 30 years ago. And he’s the author of the Journals! That means if we can get this guy back he can help you. (And Stan was a hobo! How cool is that?)**

**I get to stay in Gravity Falls for the rest of the summer to help Stan find his brother. I feel good and bad about that. I want to be with Mom and Dad. But I want to help Stan. It’s my only chance.**

**And Dipper? I don’t know where you are. I don’t know if you can see me or not. But I’m going to continue what you started. I’ll find the author and I’ll keep writing in the Journal.**

**I’m not gonna stop until I see you again. I promise.**

**Wish you were here,**

**Mabel**

 

What Mabel didn’t know was that following beside the car, floating four feet above the ground, was Dipper. He had been screaming her name for days now, knowing that she would never be able to hear him. He spoke with a distance of miles in his voice despite being right beside her.  _“I wish I was there too.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the first two chapters in a span of maybe 12 hours, while simultaneously taking and studying for finals and then cried at 2 am because I was so tired and realized the mistake I had made.


	3. Modoc the Unwise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an attempt to make life return to normal back in Gravity Falls, Mabel takes Soos out to find the girl of his dreams. Meanwhile, Dipper meets a mysterious prophet named Modoc in the mindscape who offers to help him get the hang of his new afterlife. 
> 
> Minor reference to blood/gore early on.  
> //I have a special edition copy of Journal 3 so I made some updates based on what we learn about Modoc

Life had not been going well for Dipper Pines. Mostly because he wasn’t alive anymore.

First of all, he wasn’t expecting dying to hurt. But the moment his body made impact with the ground he felt a horrible ripping-- a complete severance between himself and the physical world. He had never screamed so loud before, and no one could even hear him. And when he looked up, he knew it was over. No person should ever have to see their own brains splattered in the dirt like a Jackson Pollock painting. Their own cracked skull and broken bones, red blood fading to brown in the dirt. 

The worst part was that he wanted to cry. But his mental form couldn’t change or adapt to make any tears. He couldn’t even force his breath to labor because he couldn’t breathe. Ghosts don’t need air. There was only a simulation of crying, something hollow and unreal. 

He had spent the past few days trying to find another vessel, but nothing would take. Not puppets, not hiding in TV screens, not shop mannequins. Nothing. What kind of ghost was he if he couldn’t possess vessels anymore? There was nothing he could do to get Mabel’s attention. Or anyone's attention. 

He had a lot of things that people often wished they had-- a life after death, the ability to attend your own funeral, and complete invisibility. And he didn’t want any of them.

Now all he could do was watch, but at least it was something. He could still see Mabel, and he knew everything about Stan and the author now. He was furious about that. Betrayed. Stan’s lies got him killed. And Mabel, he was angry at her too. He had sacrificed everything for her and look at where it got him. Why couldn't she just listen to him for once?

But here was another thing about being dead. You can’t stay angry at anything for too long. Nothing seems to matter that much anymore. 

And do you want to know what the worst part was? He was going to be 12 forever. 

Dipper leaned back, not against anything, but to give the illusion of trying to relax. It had been less than a week since it happened, and the world around him was trying to recuperate. He was glad Mabel went back to Gravity Falls. That was where he wanted to be, and he wouldn’t be anywhere that Mabel wasn’t. Gravity Falls was the closest thing he ever had to a sense of belonging. And now that he was a floating specter, he felt he belonged in the weird old town more than ever.

The Mystery Shack was the same, at least that hadn’t changed. In fact, when life was going about as usual, it felt like nothing changed at all. Stan was trying to make money off of some weird golden hill billy machine that spit out oil. Wendy was cool and collected and pretending not to care. Mabel was… getting better. She was smiling and joking again. But he could see how hard it was getting. She was losing sleep. She got a paper cut on her finger and cried at the sight of blood. The only thing that helped was how she constantly clutched to the Journal, the way he used to. And she was always wearing his hat. Dipper would never admit to it out loud (again, no one could hear him if he did) but he thought it was sweet. It made him feel good.

And then there was Soos. Well, Soos had been way more “Soos” than usual, and Dipper was pretty sure it had nothing to do with him.

Soos peered around the Shack, eyes falling on a woman holding a snow globe. “Ah. A woman,” he said with a mouthy voice. He dove into a shirt rack, with the whole of his body and began to mutter to himself. Dipper raised an eyebrow. Something was definitely up with Soos.

Soos slowly rose out of the shirt rack to face the woman with the snow globe. “Your face is good. I’m a Soos.” The woman shrieked, dropping the snow globe and running out of the gift shop in terror.

Dipper smacked a hand on his forehead. _“ Seriously? This is what I’m missing out on? This is what the universe has decided to taunt me with?”_

“Woah, Soos what was that all about?” Mabel said, sliding off the gift shop counter. She pushed back the shirts, revealing Soos huddled inside.

“I...I think I was flirting, but I’m not sure.”

That was the brightest Mabel’s face had gotten in what felt like forever, eyes glistening, cheeks turning even pinker. “Did you say flirting?”

“Well, I kinda promised my grandma I’d get a date by the end of the week, but I’ve never actually been on a date before.” Head hung low, he reached out and ripped the OUT OF ORDER sign off the vending machine and stuck it to himself. “You belong on me ‘out of order’ sign.”

Mabel gasped, both hands cupped to the sides of her cheeks. “Finally, my prayers for a chance to match-make this summer have been answered.” She twirled around on one foot and pointed at him.  “Soos, I swear I will get you a date!”

Soos shrugged, “That’s okay, ham-bone. I know you have Stan have a lot to deal with. And it wouldn't be the same without Dipper there and all,” Soos looked up. Behind Mabel's back Stan was making a slashing movement at his neck: signaling Soos to stop. “Oh maybe I shouldn't have said that.”

Mabel groaned. “Augh! Listen, I know you are all worried about me, but you don’t have to be careful and junk. But I need to go outside and try to have fun.” She knew it was tough on everyone. Nobody knew what to say or do when Dipper was brought up. But usually the first reaction was to act like she wasn't the first one to see her brother dead. 

“Mabel's right,” Wendy said. “She came back to Gravity Falls to avoid all of that. Let her go out and play.”

“You're right,” Stan said, picking up old Goldie. “We could all use to get out. I think it's time I said goodbye to this old geezer and found a new attraction for the kids.”

“Yes! I’m taking Soos to where romance lives and fashion styles go to die.” She pointed to the sky, declaring her point. “To the mall!”

 ------

Dipper waited outside next to Stan’s car for Mabel so he could follow them to the mail. She had said something about her “coaching sweater”. Dipper let himself hover on his back, taking everything in. Floating felt a lot like swimming. He knew he could walk or sit if he wanted to (or maybe just the illusion of walking or sitting-- he was still figuring this out) but for the most part, he liked the sensation of knowing just how far he could hover over the ground. The sun no longer burned his eyes, so he could float on his back for hours and just look at the sky, how quickly it changed. He figured he should find some sort of hobby, considering how much time he was going to spend alone.

He closed his eyes. He wished he could sleep. The sun was probably warm, and the air was probably fresh. It would have been nice to fully enjoy it.

_“What brought you, child?”_

Opening his eyes, Dipper saw the figure of a man wearing Native American clothing and a strange headdress with a face carved in wood.  He wore a shawl over his shoulders and had war paint under his eyes.  _“Ahhh,”_ he screamed, lurching himself back. _“_ W _hoever you are, you’d better stay away. I’m warning you.”_ He balled his hands into fists, and it occurred to him that he didn’t know what he was defending. He was a ghost now. Nothing could hurt him.

_“Relax. I am not here to harm you. Come closer.”_

Looking at the man again, Dipper took note of some very odd things. 1.) The stranger had a peculiar translucent quality to his body where you could see right through him. The way Dipper looked now. 2.) He didn’t float. He walked. 3.) He could actually see and talk to Dipper.

Dipper scrambled further away. _“No way. You could be working for Bill. Why would I trust anything I meet in the mindscape?”_

The man nodded, and spoke mainly to himself.  _"It is what I feared. Cipher has returned.”_

Dipper relaxed, and inched himself closer. _“Wait. You aren’t working for Bill?”_

_“I can understand your hesitations to trust me, but Bill is no friend of mine.”_

_“Then who are you?”_

_“I am the prophet Modoc. I already know who you are, Dipper Pines.”_

Dipper reeled back, still hesitant about the stranger before him. _“How do you know my name?”_

 _“I've been in the mindscape for over 1,000 years.”_ He gestured to everything around him, as if it were all his. _“I've been watching Gravity Falls evolve and change, and that includes your arrival for the summer. However, I was not expecting you to suffer such a fate as this.”_

 _“Okay, that's creepy,”_ Dipper muttered to himself. _“But that's means you can help me right? I have so many questions about what this place is and why I can't talk to anyone anymore.”_

 _“My head was also filled with questions when I arrived. Let us walk. I will do my best to answer you.”_ The prophet began to walk away, his feet gliding against the ground.

Dipper looked over his shoulder as Mabel hopped into the back of Stan’s car, now in a black and white striped sweater. She rambled on to Soos, who was looking down at his feet, about the rules of dating and things that women like in a guy. He should follow them.

 _“Dipper, my boy,”_ the prophet called, gesturing Dipper to the trees.

Dipper rubbed at his arm, _“I should follow Mabel.”_

The prophet replied. _“You must not occupy yourself with things you cannot have. Your sister will be fine for a few hours.”_

Gravity Falls was clearly a dangerous place, anything could happen in a few hours. He learned that lesson all too well. And that meant anything could happen to Mabel. But if something did happen, what would he be able to do besides watch. But Mabel was capable. And she had Soos. If anything bad happened they would be able to handle it. And it was just nice to talk to someone again. He shouldn’t waste opportunities for communication. _“I guess it wouldn't hurt to do something else for a little bit.”_ He lowered himself to his feet, unable to feel the ground beneath the soles of his shoes, but certain he was standing on it.

He followed the prophet Modoc through the woods, watching the shape of the wooden headdress move against the scenery. The wind rustled the trees. He longed to hear the sound of leaves and twigs crunching under his feet. Or the sensation of having to keep balance while walking on a log. Dipper forced himself to move faster to keep pace with his new guide. _“So your name is Modoc?”_

_“Yes. I am Modoc the Wise. Though now I suppose they should have called me Modoc the Unwise."_

_“How did you get here? Did Bill trick you too?”_

_“That is a very long story,”_ Modoc began, stopping so that Dipper could keep up. _“I was a young man when Cipher came to me. He claimed to be a god, and had chosen me as his prophet. He offered me many things in exchange for my devotion, power, magic, and the respect of my people. All I had to do was allow him to possess my body and follow his wishes. Of course I believed him, so I did as he commanded. I allowed him to use my body as a vessel, providing prophecies and summoning incantations for future generations. However, he revealed himself to be more monster than god. I learned incantations and prophecies would bring about the end of the world. He had asked me to build a portal to his realm, which would allow all of his evil to leak into our world. I was appalled by what I had done. Luckily, Cipher was unwise to think I had the materials for such a project. I built the portal out of sticks. Butt I warned my people to leave our land, that our god had turned against us. And when they were gone, I burned the portal and myself with it so that Cipher could never come for us again. But he was enraged and possessed me one last time as my body died, and banished me here forever as punishment.”_

Dipper lowered his head. _“That's terrible.”_

_“And why are you here, my boy? I was hoping no one else to join me in my isolation.”_

_“Oh uhm.”_ Dipper didn't want to talk about it. He scratched at his arm, a habit that wouldn’t go away. _“I was tricked, same as you. I had fought Bill before and thought I could handle myself. I was wrong. He possessed me and I tried to get help but…”_ he wanted to say that Mabel didn't listen to him. Everyone always ignored him and never took him seriously. But he couldn’t say it. _“ It was too late. Bill threw me off the water tower.”_

Modoc responded with a low ‘hmmm’, pursing his lips and turning his face. _“I used to think there was no one more cursed than me. But now I see I had the blessing to choose my death.”_ He looked at Dipper over his shoulder. _“And now you are before me, having all of your life taken away at such a young age.”_

_“That doesn't make me feel any better. Actually, I feel worse.”_

_“I'm sorry. But the grief will end.”_ Modoc straightened his back and continued to walk through the forest, muttering to himself. _"All things do.”_

 _“So,”_ Dipper tried to keep the conversation going in a steady direction, stepping in unison with the prophet. _“That means you must know the mindscape better than anyone. Do you know if there is a way out of here? Or a way to communicate with the real world?”_

The wrinkles on Modoc’s face settled, the branches and pine needles of the forest visible through his translucent skin. _“I’m sorry, Dipper. But I’m afraid not.”_ It was impossible for Dipper to hide his expression. How could there be no way out? Bill had a way in and out. There had to be something Dipper could do to speak to his family again. _“It is heavy news to hear,”_ Modoc continued. _“ But you have me to help you past it. I can show you the ways of the mindscape. You don’t have to be afraid with me here.”_

They walked until night spread out over the sky. The air became still of all sound. Dipper noted that despite the increasing darkness, he could see just as well as he did in the day-time. The stars overhead were so bright. He had been out at night, for bonfires with Stan or to sit on the roof and be alone. But he was never allowed to go too far from the Shack passed dark. That didn’t matter now though. The sky was more beautiful in the center of the woods than anywhere else.

Modoc asked him questions about his life, his adventures. And Dipper felt genuinely good. It was good to speak and be heard, and then for someone to actually be interested in what he had to say. _“A couple weeks ago, I fought zombies! It was awesome,”_ he continued, swinging his fists into the air.

_“Mmm, yes I saw that. Except, if I recall, you were the one who summoned the undead.”_

If Dipper could have blushed, his face would have been a deep red. _“Yeah, I guess that’s true.”_

Modoc laughed and ruffled the hat on Dipper’s head. It was nice to feel touch again too. _“ No matter. I commend you for your bravery to put yourself between the undead and your sister, despite the threat to your own life.”_

 _“Yeah,”_ his voice drifted.

_“You are thinking about your loved ones.”_

_“Of course! They are  my family and my friends. I won’t be able to see them again… I never got to say goodbye.”_ He squinted his eyes, trying to get as close to crying as possible. Still no luck. 

 _“Dipper.”_ He turned to look at his new companion. _“Look up at the sky.”_ He did. He could see everything. Every star. Each rope of dark clouds pulling across the sky. The shades of black and blue and purple. _“Have you ever seen a sky more beautiful than this one?”_

_"No.”_

_“Yes. And despite the fact that the stars and the sky are so far away, we do not find them less beautiful. We are much like the sky, that which lies beyond our earth. Space is vast and endless, and always out of true reach. We too will extend beyond capacity. We are no longer things of this earth, but our existence is no less meaningful.”_ And Dipper thought that the sky must be awfully lonely up there, watching but never partaking. He looked down at himself, his translucent body glowing brighter in the darkness. _“We are of the stars.”_

Dipper subconsciously put a hand to his forehead, fingers phasing lightly through where his birthmark was. Was that why he was born with it? A foreboding, a prophecy, that he would become something as strange and elusive as the stars?

_“Yeah, I guess we are.”_

\-----

That’s how the next day passed too, Dipper had almost entirely forgotten to go home and check in on how Mabel was doing and Soos’s dating problems. But every time he was ready to go home, he had another question. He didn’t want to leave the comfort of interaction with another person. _“So beyond flying and phasing through walls, do we get other cool ghost powers?”_

_“Before you learn anything more about this world, you have to master its basics. Learning how to walk on ground, how to sit. Then we will work on flying among other things."_

_“So there is more though?”_

_“There is always more.”_

_“Okay next question, why do you wear that thing on your head? Your headdress."_

Modoc smiled fondly upon him, _“It looks cool.”_ Dipper laughed, a genuine laugh that made him feel like a 12-year-old boy rather than a mental form banished to another world. _“I have something I must admit to you, Dipper.”_

_“What is it?”_

_“I’ve been alone for the past 1000 years. It is nice to finally speak to someone else, to have a protege to take under my wing. The mindscape is a strange and powerful place, and now I can share that knowledge with someone else. It will be just us for a rather long time.”_

Dipper had a sensation that felt somewhat like being sick to stomach. _“I think it’s time for me to go home. I want to check up on Mabel.”_ He was gone before Modoc could tell him not to leave. He kept running through the forest, until remembering that flying would probably be faster. Yet, it took him a few leaps to get off the ground. Like he was stuck.

When he returned home, Mabel and Soos had collapsed on the arm chair in the living room. Soos was in the remains of a sweater vest, so he must have gotten a date. Their clothes were torn and slightly burnt at the edges, another day in Gravity Falls. Mabel had her head pressed up against Soos’s arm, her breath rising and falling with sleep. Her glitter pens were scattered across the floor. Open on her lap, with its charred pages, was Journal 3. He moved closer trying to see what she wrote.

 

**Dear Dipper,**

**‘Sup, dude. Soos here! Mabel told me she was writing to you in the Journal about everything that happens and that it helped her feel better and stuff.**

**We just had a nutziod experience with a terrifying digital lady-monster named GIFfany. And since I'm the only one who got to know her up close and personal, Mabel asked me to write this entry.**

**I got this game at BeedlyBoop’s Video Games to teach me how to talk to girls. And then she turned evil and tried to download me into the game so I could be her boyfriend forever. She was pretty cute though. Hehe. I do feel kinda bad about throwing her CD-ROM into a pizza oven to defeat her.  I hope she isn’t like dead.**

**Judging my overall experience, this game was supposed to help me learn how to talk to girls. And it worked. Now I'm dating this girl, Melody. She’s the best, dude. Like my heart is overflowing dude. I’ve never met anyone like her. I think you'd like her too.**

**Four out of Five pudding cups for this game.**

 

**Hey, Dip-Dop! Now it’s Mabel. Things are finally going okay here. Okay being attacked by a Japanese dating sim is not really okay, but you know what I mean. We got out of the house. I got Soos a girlfriend. Stan is in Vegas. We’re still not any closer to getting the portal up, Stan says it might take a while before we make any progress. But I know we will get it working, find the author, and find you.**

**Wish you were here,**

**Mabel and Soos**

 

_“Oh, Mabel, there is so much I wish I could tell you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had outlined the idea for this fic multiple months before writing it. And originally Dipper and Modoc weren't apart of it at all. While talking to a friend about the idea, I remembered that in Journal 3, Bill mentions Dipper having to wander the mindscape alone forever. I figured that keeping Dipper as a main figure in the story, but removing a lot of his agency would be a good way to mess up his day, but I didn't like the alone part. Characters who have nothing to interact with are boring. I needed another character, so I decided to pull Modoc out of the book-- we knew just enough about him that I could play with him. And it was my friend who suggested he be stern and controlling, things that don't always sit well with Dipper's character.


	4. Society of the Blind Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discovering that the broken laptop has ties to Old Man McGucket, Mabel goes to ask him about Stanford Pines and the Portal. Dipper receives warnings from Modoc that Mabel will eventually forget about him, as will the rest of the world. However, Dipper refuses to believe them.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” she screamed. Mabel dashed into the bedroom, and flopped back onto the bed. Finally, some good news. She clutched the sea-green bottle, corked at the top with a roll of paper inside. Another message from Mermando. Maybe he wanted to get back together? She could definitely use some good news right now. Everything was getting so overwhelming to the point where it was hard to sleep at night. Popping the cork, she squealed with excitement, like opening a bottle of champagne to celebrate the world finally paying her back for all the heartbreak.

Though the attic bedroom would always look empty no matter how many mermaid boys wanted to date her. While most of Dipper’s things were gone she managed to make it feel like he was still there. A cork board leaned against the wall entitled “How to Get Dipper Back” with various theories tacked below: time travel, interdimensional mirror, zombie curse (that one was crossed out multiple times). A few of his items remained, the fishing hat from Stan and the pterodactyl tooth. And...the laptop. That one made her feel sick to her stomach.

Of course Dipper was there, watching curiously for what Mabel’s next adventure might be, sitting on his bed with his back against the wall. He was growing used to spying now. The freedom to watch without being watched. So in a way, her intuition was right, he was there. 

“What’s going on up here? You’re making some weird noises.” Stan poked his head into the bedroom.

“I got another message from Mermando!”

“Who?”

“He’s a merman-- half fish, half shirtless guy. I rescued him from Gravity Falls pool and helped him get back to his family. He was also my first kiss.”

“Sometimes I have a hard time following what you say.”

Dipper groaned to himself. _“Not Mermando again. Can’t we just forget about Mermando?”_

Mabel uncorked the bottle and tapped the bottom until the message slid out into her hand. Stan sat down on the opposite bed, not entirely interested in what Mabel had to say, but pretending like he was. He looked at the cork board behind him, worry lines pressing into his forehead when he read some of her theories, particularly “pray to the giant sky salamander”.

“‘Dear, Mabel’…” she read. “‘It is with a heavy heart…’ So far so good! '... that I must inform you, I’m getting married'.” She shook her head and looked at the words again. “Wait, what?”

 _“And there it is,”_ Dipper commented to himself.

Ignoring Stan, Mabel continued to read. “In order to prevent an undersea civil war… arranged marriage… Queen of the Manatees… and she’s so beautiful.” At least Mermando was thoughtful, or perhaps un-thoughtful to include a picture of himself and his new manatee bride. Mabel groaned and slipped her face into her hands. “How can this be happening?” All she wanted was some good news.

“It’s just a… mer-man,” Stan said, albeit in a very non-encouraging voice. “I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

Reaching under the bed, Mabel pulled out her scrapbook and placed Mermando’s picture with the list of other failed summer romances. “My dream is doomed. It seems like nothing good can stay.”

Stan pushed himself off the bed and walked over to her. “Awww, cheer up. I’ll find you a new merman. We’ll go out to sea.” He took the dirty green bottle from her hand and held it to his eye like a spying glass. “We can hunt for treasure and go fishing, just the two of us! By the end of it, you’ll have forgotten all about this guy.”

“Yeah!” Mabel took the bottle back from Stan. She hopped up onto the bed, knocking the scrapbook from her lap and feeling the mattress spring beneath her feet. Holding the bottle up to her eye, she struck a pose, trying to imagine the taste of salty sea air and the wind in her hair. “We’ll be the most fearsome of pirates! I’ll flirt with all the mermen!” She surveyed her fake sea, looking around her room with the bottle acting like a magnifying glass. Then she saw something, a chip wedging its way out of the smashed laptop pieces. “McGucket Labs?”

Dipper leaned into the laptop, part of his body phasing through. “ _Uhg. How could I forget to check the label? We wouldn’t be in this mess if I weren’t so stupid.”_

“In what part of your fantasy is that crazy old man out in the middle of the ocean?”

“No! The laptop, it has a logo for McGucket Labs.” She handed Stan the bottle so he could look through.

“Hmmm. You said you got this laptop from an underground apocalypse bunker that belonged to my brother?”

“Mhm. So does this mean… Old Man McGucket knew your brother?” She gasped, “Maybe he knows something about the portal. Maybe he could help us.”

Stan shook his head. “I can’t say. I’m honestly having a hard time believing Ford would have any friends.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out. I’m gonna go talk to McGucket.” Mabel jumped off the bed and scurried around for her backpack. She pried it out from a lump of sweaters and began to pack everything she might need.”

Stan pulled her back by the arm, “Woah. McGucket has completely lost his mind, I don’t know if he even could help us. If he wanted to, he would have brought it up a long time ago.”

“That’s why I have to go talk to him. We need all the answers we can get.”

“Fine. But take Soos and Wendy with you. I don’t want you going alone.”

Slipping the backpack over her shoulders, Mabel adjusted Dipper’s hat on her head. Leaning in, she hugged Stan with all of her strength then ran out of the door. “We’ll be back by dinner!”

She ran down from the attic and into the gift shop. Soos was listening to some horrible song about… blanchin’? Mabel thought it was catchy. Dipper thought it was terrible.

She grabbed Soos by the hand and pulled him to the door. “Wendy, Soos, we need to go see Old Man McGucket. I’ll explain on the way.” Wendy and Soos didn’t have to say anything. They simply nodded and followed her.

Dipper kept close behind as they charged out the door, happy to be able to witness this adventure. Finally, something exciting. Until something grabbed him by the back of the collar. _“Dipper.”_

_“Hey, Modoc.”_

_“What are you doing?”_

_“Mystery hunt. Wanna come with?”_

_“You should be learning about the mindscape. The sooner you gain knowledge the more content you will be here.”_

Since their first meeting, Modoc had been trying to train Dipper in the ways of the mindscape. Modoc tested how high he could fly (which was only to the tree tops until he grew unsteady) or what to do if other creatures wander into the mindscape. But Dipper had already grown tired of it. This was going to be a very long afterlife.

Dipper rolled his eyes. _“Come on, man. The mindscape gets kind of boring. If I can’t be a part of the action, I might as well watch it.”_

_“Why do you force yourself to suffer like this? You obsess and you fret over things you cannot have.”_

_“What do you have against my family?”_ Dipper shouted. _“I’m still trying to adjust to this place. I haven’t been here that long. I can’t move on in a day.  And I know you trying to train me is supposed to make it easier, but we have an eternity for that.”_ He realized that he was yelling, his voice booming across an empty dimension. Obviously, he was having a hard time. The concept of eternity used to just be that, a concept. Now it was a reality. _“I don’t have an eternity to watch them.”_ He pointed at the truck, feeling a swell of grief rise up inside his non-existent body.

Modoc put a hand on his shoulder. He gave an expression similar to sadness, or crying, but not entirely there. _“I am harsh on you because I understand. I watched my family, my people, for centuries. But one day, they will soon forget about you. Families move on. Societies suppress. When I sacrificed myself for my tribe, I soon faded from their memory. The same will happen to you. One day, even your own sister will forget about you.”_

 _“That’s not possible,”_ Dipper pulled himself from Modoc’s grasp. Behind rung  the sounds of Soos’s truck starting up, his sister’s laughter, and that awful rap song. _“Mabel would never give up on me, just like I would never give up on her.”_ He stormed off, following closely behind the car. He’d rather hear Soos’s bad music than listen to Modoc.

_“You will heed my words soon enough.”_

\-------

Pulling up to the junkyard, Mabel jumped out of the truck before it came to a full stop. The air smelt rank, like rotting fruit and rust. She watched her steps carefully, trying to find a clear path to set her feet. Inside her backpack, the Journal seemed to weigh a ton, bearing down on her shoulders. “Old Man McGucket?” Wendy and Soos walked at her heels.

She found him standing outside, yelling at some teenagers who spray painted “McSuckit” on, not house, but pile of metal scraps stacked into a hut. He sighed, and turned to face the group. “Visitors! Come. Come.” Before Mabel could say anything, she was ushered inside the hut. Inside it was poorly lit with lanterns, that reflected off of dull and scratched metal. An entire car was rammed in there. The air smelt like a claustrophobic mildew and sawdust. He turned around, scratched at the side of his head, and then pointed at Mabel. “Ain’t there usually two of you? Where’s the other feller?”

 _“I'm right here, man,”_ Dipper muttered sarcastically.

A silence struck the hut. Everything was a reminder. “Dipper is…” her words escaped momentarily. She closed her eyes and tried to fight it off. The memories, the suffering. She swallowed it all down. Reaching into her backpack, she pulled out the broken laptop. “Listen, McGucket. We came here to ask you about something.” She held it out to him, pieces falling off the exterior. “Does this ring any bells to you?”

Taking the laptop in his hands, McGucket mulled over it. “Can’t say it does.”

“But the laptop has your name on it,” Soos commented.

“What about the name Stanford Pines?” She grabbed Journal 3 from her backpack and held it out, flipping through charred the pages. “Or this book? Do you recognize any of it?”

“I told ya’ I don’t recall. Everything before 1982 is just a blur. Just a hazy…” he stopped, eyes widening at the sight of one of the pages. McGucket shrieked and staggered back with wide and tired eyes. “The Blind Eye. Robes, the men, my mind. They did something!”

Mabel lowered the Journal and tucked it underneath her arm. “You poor old man. No wonder your mind is so,” she made a fart noise for lack of a better word. “You’ve been through something intense.”

Wendy gestured to McGucket. “Think, dude. Who did this to you? What is the first thing you remember?”

“Uh… this is, I think.” He pulled a newspaper clipping off the wall titled DISORIENTED MAN FOUND AT MUSEUM.  

“I was really hoping for something less nerdy, but yeah! To the museum!” Mabel exclaimed.

\------

Mabel crept through the halls of the history museum. Everything was dark, and all of the wax figures seemed to stare at her. She could feel the floorboards creak beneath her feet when everyone moved closer. “Yup,” she whispered. “I have no idea where we are supposed to go. It’d be nice if there was like… I don’t know an entrance sign or maybe a label of some kind.”

“We’ve been wandering around here for a while,” Wendy whispered. “Are you sure McGucket is right about this?”

“We can trust him,” she whispered back, peering out from behind a wall. “I know he went all nuts and berries before, but he’s all we’ve got. Remember, this is for Dipper.”

“You know, I’m right over here,” McGucket said. “I can hear you fellers talkin’ about me.”  

“Look!” Soos pointed into one of the adjacent rooms. “A mysterious hooded figure!” And then in an instant, the figure was gone.  

They rushed into the room. A fireplace made the whole room glow a soft and warm red. And the whole room was filled with jars, pictures, statues, and carvings of unblinking eyes. It was as if God were watching her, or maybe something worse. Mabel stared around the room. “Where’d that guy go?”

McGucket reeled back, “I feel like all these eyeballs are a-watchin’ me.”

Mabel paused, thought to herself, and then grinned. Those eyes were staring, all in the same direction. “I sense a secret door! Move aside!” Brushing passed McGucket, she saw a stone carving of an eye, staring directly at her. “Bleep!” She pressed it, triggering the fireplace to slide back and a star case to spring from the whole in the wall. A cold waft of dusty air sprung into her face. “I like where this is going.”

They teetered down the stairs, hearing the muffled tone of low voices. Mabel kept one hand on the wall, following the feeling of stonework. She parted the heavy red curtain that hung at the bottom of the stairs and poked her head through.

The room was cold, lined from wall to wall with stone carved with strange symbols. A series of tubes ran across the ceiling, an intricate maze. And in the center was a chair, with arm and leg straps connected. And a box, with a latch of a crossed-out eye. The room felt stale. A mass of people wearing red robes left the room casually, saying the same phrase over and over again. “Unsee you later.” “Unsee _you_ later.” She pulled back, hiding behind the curtain until it was quiet.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go take a look.” Her footsteps echoed on the tile. “How crazy is this? There’s an entire secret society in Gravity Falls. I bet they’re the ones who took McGucket’s memories.” She walked up to the box, and unhooked the latch.

“Uhh, Mabel. Maybe you shouldn’t play with that,” Wendy cautioned.

“Pfft.” Mabel flipped the top of the box open. “What could it possibly be?” A gun, colored gold with a light bulb stuck to one end and a dial on the other side. An orange blast shield ran up the center, and a tub stuck out of the top. Mabel took it out, turning it over in her hands. “I have no idea what this is.”

Soos hunched his shoulder and tapped his index fingers together. “Uhh, maybe we should get out of here, dudes. What if those robe guys come back?” He leaned forward underneath one of the tubes. A gust of hair sucked the hat off his head and sent it spiralling down one of the tubes.

“Or we can follow that hat!” She ran up the adjacent stairs, not stopping to see if the others were behind her. She kept the strange gun in hand, not willing to let it go. It was good not to think about all the bad stuff and only about the good stuff that was lying ahead. She wiped at the sweat that was dripping from her forehead, right under the brim of the hat. Dipper would have loved this… she felt herself choke up. No. Don't get sad.

She kept following the tubes until a grand pair of double doors appeared a red X sprawled across them. Hearing the footsteps of her friends behind her, she pushed open the doors. Behind them, were thousands of tubes, all labeled with various names, stacked into piles. “What is this?”

She paced through the piles, some of the tubes clacking against her feet. She picked one up: (LAZY) SUSAN WENTWORTH MEMORIES. And another one: ROBBIE V. MEMORIES. “Memories. All of these are stolen memories,” she announced to the group.

Soos looked through the tubes, “It looks like people have had their memories stolen from all over town.”

McGucket crawled on all fours through the room, knocking over tubes as he went. He climbed up the statue of the hooded figure, and looked at the tubes lined on the wall, a place of honor. “Look!” he pointed to one. MCGUCKET MEMORIES. “It’s those words that people call me!” The moment the tube left the shelf, an alarm went off, blaring in Mabel’s ears. A carving of an eye over the shelf opened and shone a violent red.

“Who’s there,” a voice called from behind the door.

“Oh no.” Mabel whispered, tucking the gun into the waistband of her skirt and hiding it beneath her puppy sweater.

“Run,” Soos shouted, taking off down a hallway. Mabel followed, but before the group could make it down one of the adjacent hallways, they were stopped by the red-robed members of cult who seemed to be coming at them from all directions. The four all pressed their backs together, huddled in a circle. One of the members reached out and snatched the memory tube from McGucket’s hands. “Hey, give that back,” Mabel yelled. “Those aren’t your memories.”

“Oh but their secrets are,” spoke a man with a very strange accent. The leader stepped forward, the mass of red parting down the middle for him to enter.

“Tell me who you bathrobe wearing freaks are. And why do you have a creepy British accent?”

The leader chuckled, and lowered his hood. He had a series of funny tattoos on his bald head, and a scar over one eye. “You would have never seen me before. And if you have you wouldn’t remember. I am Blind Ivan. And we are The Society of the Blind Eye.” He came closer, trying to appear friendly.

“Yeah well,” she bit the bottom of her lip trying to come up with something else to say. “You guys are jerks for thinking you can steal people’s memories!”

“We don’t steal anything. No doubt you have discovered that Gravity Falls is home to some very strange and disturbing things. We erase the bad memories of its citizens, all memory of magic, so that they can live happy and ignorant lives.”

Mabel slipped a hand behind her back, letting her fingers hover over where the golden gun was tucked into her clothes. “You’re not making anyone happy. Look at Old Man McGucket. He needs those memories back because you took them. Forgetting didn’t make him happy.”

“Come on. I’m sure there are things you would like to forget.”

Mabel tugged the gun free and held it out before her, poising it with expert skill. “Get back! I have a weapon and I am not afraid to use it!” She was afraid to use it.

Blind Ivan chuckled. “Oh, my girl. That is not a weapon at all. What you are holding is a gift. That is a memory eraser ray. It can take away all of your bad memories. Tell me. What is it that haunts you at night and prevents you from sleeping? Something is eating at you.”  

“There’s nothing!”

Ivan glided to her side. "Oh but there is." Then he whispered in her ear, "We can make it so it doesn't hurt anymore. All you have to do is tell us, Mabel _Pines_." The slings of the s dragged between his teeth.

Her arms shook, she couldn't keep the memory eraser ray steady. It rattled against her palm. He knew. It was the way he grinned at her. Ivan was only trying to get at her, to make her give herself in. He knew. Of course he knew, everyone saw the obituary. It was the only one in the paper that morning.  She couldn't take it. Everyone expected her to be fine. She wanted to be fine. She tried to do everything she could to make it all normal again. It would never be normal. Beads of tears cascaded down her face. No, she was letting Ivan get to her. She let the memory eraser ray slip from her fingers and fall to the ground. Then she fell to her knees, breathing heavy and barely able to speak. She didn’t want to say it. But the more she thought it the more true it became.

“Dipper.” Tears choked and clogged her throat. Her fingers gripped the floor as she heaved and heaved. “I just want to forget Dipper!” His memory consumed every part of her. All those theories tacked to the corkboard. Constantly wearing his hat. The inability to sleep through the night.

Dipper took a step back from Mabel, shaking his head. _“No.”_ He didn't want to believe it. But she was right there in front of him. And she didn't even know he was there. _“Don't say that, Mabel. Please, don't say that.”_

Blind Ivan reached down and grabbed the memory eraser ray. Mabel didn't even flinch. She didn’t even think to move. She couldn’t move even if she wanted to. “I can't do it anymore! There was,” she hiccuped, followed by a gasp. Sweat covered her back and her hair hung in thick clumps around her face. “There was so much blood.” She couldn't get the image out of her head. All of his blood spilling, matting the back of his hair. The fact that when the police came to move his body more of it spilled from the crack in his skull and she could hear the snap of crunched bones. His cold, dead eyes. It was the last time she saw him. “It's all my fault. And I just want to forget! I want my life back.”

Dipper staggered back. This couldn't be happening. Modoc was right. To get rid of the pain Mabel had to get rid of him. She wanted to forget him, leave his memory behind. In time it would be like he never existed. _“No. Please,”_ he whispered, knowing that she would never hear. He turned around and ran, not wanting to hear anymore of it.  

Blind Ivan entered something into the memory eraser ray, and held it out in front of her. “Don't worry, my dear. You won’t remember anything.”  

The light was so bright over Mabel's head. She wanted to do something, she wanted to stop him. But the grief was so consuming. All those memories. Instead she bowed her head and waited. The ray zapped, a flash of off-white light arching against the air. And she waited and waited. Nothing happened.  

Looking up, McGucket stood over her, body braced to protect hers. His eyes looked distant.

She sniffed and rubbed at her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “McGucket. You took a bullet for me?”

Ivan fired again, the bright light hitting McGucket in the face, knocking his head back.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” she shouted.

McGucket blinked. “Okay as I'll ever be!”

The memory gun fired again, and again. Ivan’s one good eye widened in fear. “Why isn’t this working?”

McGucket grinned as he walked forward. “My mind’s been gone for 30 odd years.” Another bolt of light shot him in the face. “You can’t break what’s already broken!” He gripped Blind Ivan by the robe. “Say goodnight Sally!” And he rammed his head right into Ivan’s skull, the memory eraser ray and memory tube clattering to the ground.  

Mabel let her head droop with relief. She almost let someone take away her memories. But it was over now. It was over and it was going to be okay.

\------

Dipper flew through the forest as fast as he could, faster than any other time he had with Modoc. He just wanted to scream and cry and throw things. His grief kept turning into anger. And there was no easy way to release it.

He came to an abrupt halt. Modoc waited for him in front of the Shack, standing perfectly straight but floating a foot off the ground. It was as if he never left. _“I can assume that did not go well.”_

Dipper balled his hands into fists. _“She said she wanted to forget me. That she wanted her life back. My life is the one that's gone!”_ He lowered himself to the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest and nuzzling his face against them. He hated how unreal his skin felt. It was like touching smoke. There was no texture or heat to it, completely intangible. _“I should have listened to you.”_

Modoc sat down beside Dipper and placed on hand on his back. There was a long moment of silence between them, as Dipper tried to gather his thoughts and emotions. He knew there would come a time that Mabel would move on. A time when she would grow up and have a life that existed outside of him, outside of Gravity Falls. But he thought that time would be years away. He forgot how short summer could be.

Though… he couldn't imagine what she was going through. He couldn't begin to imagine what she felt, what it would be like if he lost her. He would have given up if she died. _"I know that deep down she didn’t mean it. She looked horrified, muttering about all the blood.”_ He pulled his head up, to look at the setting sun. “ _It still hurts that she said it, though.”_

 _“Whether or not your sister meant anything she said, she will continue to move further away from you. And you further from her. That’s just how things are. She is alive and you are not.”_ He looked to Dipper and extended a hand, _“Are you ready to leave all of this and come with me?”_

Dipper paused. _“Yes.”_ Then he reached for Modoc's hand, the only tangible thing in his world. 

\------

After defeating Blind Ivan, the group had decided to erase the memories of the entire Society of the Blind Eye. They tied them up, and pulled down their hoods (revealing some of their identities as well-- Bud Gleeful, Toby Determined, that guys who married a woodpecker?). Mabel gave Ivan the new name of Toot Toot McBumbersnazzle… just because. And then when all was said and done, they took McGucket’s memory tube and plugged it into a weird tv.

Mabel felt bad for McGucket. He had to watch his own slow decent into madness. That he was the one who built the memory eraser ray and formed the society because of all the terrible things he saw. Having lost everything. She looked away for most of it. 

The screen turned off, McGucket’s memories blacking out with it.

Mabel didn’t realize she had been holding her breath. “Oh, McGucket. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh hush,” he took the tube and smiled at it. “You helped me get my memories back, just like you said.”  

“But did you want those memories back? Won’t it only make you feel worse?”

McGucket tugged at the bottom of his beard. “Listen, Mabel." He put a hand on her shoulder. "I know I’m not one to talk, but just because a memory is painful doesn’t mean it’s a memory that should go away.” He sighed and stared at himself in the blackened screen. “I’m an example of what happens if you try too hard to forget. I know it must be hard to be without your brother. But forgettin’ him will only make it worse.”

She nodded, trying not to cry. “For a lunatic hillbilly, you’re really smart.”

  
\------

**Dear Dipper,**

**A BREAK IN THE CASE! We’ve been looking for some way to get close to the author all summer and this whole time it’s been staring us right in the face.**

**We uncovered and defeated The Society of the Blind Eye and we owe our success to Old Man McGucket. He was once a brilliant scientist and a friend to Great Uncle Ford. According to the Journal he helped build the portal and so many other things. He could be the key to putting everything back to normal. The mystery can finally come to a close. That is, if he can get all his memories back. He still likes talking to racoons, but baby steps.**

**I’m glad to have made a new friend. He understands what it means to go through something painful. Talking to him helped a lot.**

**I promise I’ll never forget you, Dipper.**

**Wish you were here,**

**Mabel**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter sucked to write. So much happens in one episode.


	5. How Do You Deal?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation between Mabel and Stan.

Mabel kicked the front door shut behind her and dropped her bag on the floor, memory eraser ray clattering inside. She was ready for a warm bath and to go to bed. Her face still felt hot and her hair was still clumped together around her face. The floor boards squeaked when she walked. She couldn't think of a time when the Mystery Shack felt so quiet.

“Mabel, is that you?” Stan called from the kitchen.

“Yeah,” she called back.

“Come over here, tell me how it went.” She sighed, straightened her back and walked over. She was just so tired. She was not expecting her day to be so emotionally draining. Stan took a sip of his Pitt Cola and then looked over at her. “Woah. You look awful.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Aww, I didn’t mean it like that. C'mon. Tell me what happened." He pulled out a chair, it's legs screeching against the floor. "It was McGucket wasn’t it? That crazy old coot.”

She tucked her hair up under her hat, to keep it out of her face and cool the skin on her neck. “No. It wasn’t him. He’s a good guy. I was right, though. He was working with Great Uncle Ford and he did build the portal. But he erased all his memories and he can’t help us until he has them back. We fought an evil secret society of mind erasers today. It was bananas.” She sat down, and let her chin rest on her hand.

“Doesn’t sound like you had a good time. Tell me what’s up.” He reached down and pulled up another can of Pitt Cola, popped the tab, and slid it across the table to her.

She caught the can and sighed. As amazing as Grunkle Stan was, he often didn’t talk about his own feelings much. He always seemed to swallow them down so that it wouldn’t make her sad. He could meet any problem with a smile and a laugh. “How do you deal with it? Dipper being gone?”

“Where’s all this coming from?”

She gripped the can, it felt cold against her aching palms. “The leader of the memory erasers got into my head today and made me go all stupid,” she spun one finger in circles near her head. “He must’ve known what had happened because he kept trying to make me say what I wanted to forget. He was trying to make me feel sad and afraid. But what he said, it really did get to me. I broke down and said I wanted to forget Dipper. Not that I meant it. But it’s just… I can’t get that image out of my head. I see it all the time, all the blood and his eyes.” Stopping, Mabel caught herself and took a drink of her soda. She wanted to have a little bit of liquid before crying again. “You don’t seem to have those problems. You look like you’re doing just fine. How do you deal?”

The night it happened, Stan felt simultaneously near and far away from her. He spent the whole night holding her, brushing the hair from her face. But he did stop crying. Eventually his sadness faded into an eerie silence. Since then he kept up his brave face. She knew he was trying to be strong but she didn't know how he managed to try so hard.

“Oh wow. That’s a pretty heavy question.” He leaned back in his chair, and looked out into the living room, like he was expecting someone to be there. “Truth is, I’m not dealing with it.  I throw myself into my work, either in the portal or into the Shack. I can't remember the last time I slept for more than 3 hours.” He crushed the can a little in his hand, “Sometimes kids about your age walk into gift shop, and it takes all my effort not to break down. I look at you, and I realize how empty things are without him. I’m just a good liar, Mabel. I didn’t want you to have to see your old Grunkle turn into a hot mess. So I put on my little show for you. I’d do anything to make you smile. But in truth, I can’t get the thought out of my head either.” He pulled up the brim of her hat, forcing her to look at him. He was smiling, but there was a mist in his eyes. “This isn’t about dealing with it. It’s about working through it. That’s why you came back to Gravity Falls. So that we could work through it together. You’re not alone.”

“Thanks, Grunkle Stan.”

Stan pushed himself out of his chair and squeezed her shoulder. “Now, you told me that you would be back by dinner. It’s almost 9.” He frowned at her. Aww man. Stan was never one to be strict about anything.

“Yeah,” she rubbed at the arm of her sweater. “I may have gotten a little distracted.”

“Well that means you haven’t eaten anything.” He winked at her. “How about pancakes for dinner? We’ll live on the wild side.”

There was that smile. Big and filled with braces. “With whip cream and sprinkles?”

“Is there any other way?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this chapter because I began to realize following the episode structure completely was a little unfair to Stan. He doesn't do much in episodes 5-10, and I also made the decision to cut Little Gift Shop of Horrors (considering the key word is NONCANON I figured the episode didn't actually exist anyway). Both myself and the audience needed to know how he felt, and Stan isn't a very emotionally open guy. He wouldn't just say it in the way Mabel does. He plays a larger role in the fic than in the show, so I devised this little setup to get him to talk.  
> Mabel's grief is the key part of the story. But I think Stan's is the one that carries the emotional impact.


	6. Blendin's Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel tries to plan a birthday outing for Soos, but instead gets kidnapped by Blendin Blandin who wants to fight her in Globnar as revenge for losing his job and going to time-prison.

Mabel slid a few coins into the vending machine, which now she knew was actually the entrance to the underground lab where the portal was hidden. She and Stan had spent hours there together. While she wasn't of any help when it came to getting the dumb thing started, mostly she just handed Stan wrenches or poured Mabel Juice into his coffee. But Stan said he liked her company. It made her feel proactive. Sure, she didn't know a single thing about interdimensional travel, but she was trying. 

“Candy, candy, candy!” she chanted, pressing the selection button on the vending machine. The bag of Yumber Jacks moved forward only to wedge itself against the glass. She slammed her fists against the glass in agony. “No! It’s trapped. Everything is terrible forever!” she wailed, fingers squeaking on the glass. 

Soos peaked around the corner of the doorway. “Psst. Do you wanna know a trick?” He hit the vending machine multiple times with his hands and elbows in a rehearsed pattern. “Bippity-boop. Wop!” The side of the machine flew open, displaying all its candy contents. “A genius taught me that once.” He grabbed an armful of candy, and tossed it into the air over Mabel. “This just in: weather stations calling for a candy blizzard.”

She laughed, grabbing at whatever candy she could as it fell over her head in a swirl of colors. She wanted to forget the wrappers and just eat it as was. This felt like the start to the best day ever. “Soos, you are the greatest human to ever live.”

Soos grabbed his wallet and began to file in the money to pay off his candy blizzard. “Haha. No sweat, dude. I’d do anything for the Pines family.”

Somewhere in the Shack, Stan started to yell. “Soos! I need to scratch myself in 2 places at once!”

“And I mean anything.” He turned and walked back through the doorway, “Coming, Mr. Pines.”

Smiling to herself, Mabel took a bite of her candy, wrapper and all. “Whoops. Looks like he forgot his wallet. Better make sure he gets it back.” She picked it up off the table. Then she felt a light bulb go blink. “Or I could learn some Soos secrets.” Munching on her candy, Mabel flipped through Soos’s wallet. He kept a lot of very cool and very Soos things in it. A membership to laser tag. Emergency salami (her respect for him had grown). And his driver’s license: Jésus Alzamirano Ramirez. Organ donor. Birthday- July 13th. Mabel spit her candy out. “Wait! That’s today! And to think, Soos is spending his birthday alone. He probably wants us to throw him a surprise party…” She thought about that for a moment. “But I think we’ve had enough surprises.”

She grabbed his wallet and bounded through the house. She found him outside, sitting on the front steps of the Shack. He was looking at something, maybe a picture. “You left your wallet behind.”

He quickly shoved the paper back into his pocket. “Oh, thanks.”

“So,” Mabel slid onto the old wooden step next to him. “I definitely wasn’t snooping around inside your wallet or anything, but I happen to know that it’s your birthday and that you aren’t celebrating… can I throw you a party?” She titled her head into his shoulder. 

Soos shrugged. “Nah, it’s cool. I don’t really like my birthday anyway.”

She gasped. “Why?”

“I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

Shaking Soos’s arm, Mabel tried to put on her most excited and charming face. “But, Soos! We could have so much fun. We could have cake flavored pizza and pizza flavored cake. All your favorite things. Come on!”

He shook his head. “I’m just not feeling it, dude. Thanks for caring, but I don’t think there’s anything anyone could do to make me like my birthday.”Mabel hated seeing Soos sad. He was supposed to be fun and light hearted, not down in the dumps. 

“I know I could do it,” Mabel said, pointing her thumb at herself. “All twins are born birthday experts. We share every birthday together and know how to make them perfect. And no one should be alone on their birthday.” She then realized what she had said. She was going to be alone on her 13th birthday. She wasn’t going to share a birthday with anyone anymore. It would be just her. All the color drained from her face while her stomach did back flips. And Soos must’ve seen that look on her face. That moment of realization. "I guess, I'm not a twin anymore, huh? All of my birthdays are going to be alone."

“You know what. For you, Mabel, I’ll do it," he nudged her shoulder playfully. "If I'm gonna spend my birthday with anyone, I want it to be you." 

She tried to shrug the bad thoughts off. Today was for all the good stuff. “Good, because I have just the place in mind.”

 

\------

 

Soos wandered into the building, trying to feel around with his hands since Mabel had insisted on blindfolding him. She ushered him along, Wendy and Stan following behind. “Mabel, I don’t think the blindfold was really necessary. Wait a minute.” He sniffed the air. “Hot dog smell? Sticky floors? Future sounds.” He took off the blindfold. Soos opened his eyes to see the purple cast on the walls, fog oozing from underneath doors, and the sounds of children screaming. “Laser tag? I love laser tag. How did you know?”

“Like I said I wasn’t rooting through your wallet. I’ve just got mad skills.”

She blinked her big brown eyes over and over, using her cuteness to get Soos into the party time mood. Beside her, Wendy and Stan were talking about how the building used to be a mattress store 10 years ago, explaining why the walls had a squishy padding to them. There was no better time for laser tag. They could use a break from all the adventure and excitement and just do something normal.

“Alright, Mabel. I'll trust your mad skills."

“As long as you stick with me, you’ll get into the party mood. I promise I will not leave your side.”

“If you say so." 

Mabel wished she would have known she'd have to break her promise.

After she and Soos suited up in their laser tag vests, Mabel prepared herself to enter the post-apocalyptic world of a back room of a smelly, old, concrete building. As soon as the screen said GO, Mabel barged into the game, ready to take down any opponent.

Except the room she walked into was completely white. Two future-guys stood with their guns at the ready, name tags reading Lolph and Dundgren. She looked around for a moment, completely confused. “Whoa, this is even cooler than I imagined! Look how real these laser guys are!” She ran up to one, and decided to kick it in the crotch. She didn’t know why she thought to do it. They just looked so cool. 

Then, much to her surprise, the laser guys’ crotch lit up. “ _Kick deflected. Thank you for buying Digi-cod: the smart codpiece,”_ it said in a robotic voice. That didn't seem very child-friendly. 

“Wait, what?” When she turned around, she realized there was exit. She was completely surrounded by the white box. “Soos!” She ran and kicked at the walls of her imprisonment, it was just like Grunkle Stan taught her. If someone tried to trap you in a box, just start kicking at the sides.

“Nice try,” the sci-fi dude that she kicked in the crotch started to talk. Oh no. She thought he was a mannequin. “But that's solid time-tanium, kid! There's only one way out of here!”

“Through me,” a very familiar looking bald guy stepped forward. Or at least his head, feet, and hands did. His middle was completely see through. Mabel tried not to laugh at the accidental pun. “Oh uh…” he pressed some of the buttons on his watch to make his uniform change into different scenes of mansions and a swingset. “Sorry. C-come on.” Hitting another button his clothing changed to a dull gray. “Through me! And that's, what it would be like if I'd just...gotten it right the very first chance, but it's still as effective.”

Mabel gasped. “You’re the time traveler guy! What was your name again? Blendo… Blondin?”

“It’s Blendin! Blendin Blenjamin Blandon. How could you forget my name after you ruined my life? And,” he stopped. “Where’s your brother?” He looked at the time agents beside him. “I-I-I told you there were two kids. Dipper _and_ Mabel Pines. There’s only one!" 

“Actually,” Mabel said, trying to keep her voice as monotonous as possible. “Dipper’s not here anymore.”

“Then he escaped,” Blendin shouted. “W-w-we need to find him. I demand justice!”

“No. Dipper’s dead. It's only been 2 weeks.” It was the first time she said it out loud.

Blendin threw his arms into the air victoriously, his voice screeching at the highest frequency she could imagine. “Then that means my chances of winning Globnar against you are increased!” He continued to screech. Mabel wasn't sure if it was some kind of victory call or maybe he was just like that. But he was definitely relishing in her brother's death, like it was a good thing. 

“Woah, Blendin. You gotta be kidding me right now,” Dundgren said, expression a little bit more stern than before.

“Yeah,” Lolph added, crossing his arms. “How can you possibly think to say that? She’s a little girl and her brother just died. That is seriously messed up.”

“You disgust me.” Dundgren grimaced. “I have kids, you know. I can’t imagine that type of horror.”

“I-I-I,” Blendin stuttered.

‘Wait, wait,” Mabel interjected. As much as Mabel liked listening to the two very muscely future guys knock Blendin down a few pegs, it wasn’t making her problem go away. “Thanks, weird-looking-time-guys for standing up for me. That’s really nice. But uhm,” she cleared her throat. And then she yelled. “What’s going on? Why am I here?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you why you’re here.” A menacing grin spread across Blendin’s face. “It was after you stole my time device to win your stupid pig! I was cast out of the Time Anomaly Removal Crew; my whole life's purpose. And then I was given ten squared life sentences in time prison. I spent every day since then planning my vengeance. And now finally, it has come!”

“Look,” Mabel stepped up to Blending and the two time-travel guys. “I’m really sorry about all of that, but I’m kind of in the middle of something. It’s my friend’s birthday and I promised I wouldn’t leave his side.”

Blendin scoffed at her. “You think some dumb birthday matters now? You don’t even know where you are. Welcome…” the opposite side of the white wall phased out of existence revealing a vast world with a color scheme of only dark gray, green, and purple, “to Globnar!”

Mabel ran over to the open part of the wall. It actually looked kind of cool. It was all glowy and everything made a “bee-boop” sound that was a little bit like a synthesizer. It had the off-kilter weird vibe that she liked to see. “Is this a reality show? Are we in Japan?”

“It’s gladiatorial time combat.” That didn’t sound too bad to Mabel. Gladiators were hunky and wore cool feather helmets. Then she got a closer glimpse at what Globnar actually was. People falling through portals, being set on fire, and eaten by a… jello monster? She wasn’t entirely sure what that thing was. “The winner gets a precious time wish and then decides the loser’s fate.” On a stage some guy was vaporized out of existence, screaming in horror. “And you are officially challenged.”

Okay, new plan. She had to get out of there.

As Blendin called for his war paint (did she get any war paint… no, she wasn’t going to fight him in Globnar), Mabel tried to think of a way out. Her eyes landed on Lolph’s time travel tape measure. Of course, if she could get her hands on it, she could go back to Soos’s birthday. Or... Her mind went to the cork board in her bedroom tacked with theories. _Dipper._ If she had that time machine she could save Dipper.

She just needed to find a way to distract Lolph. Maybe a ploy pretending to be his great great great great great great great grandmother. Or you know she could just run by and take it from him. Yeah, that second option seemed quicker.

When Lolph wasn’t paying attention, she charged passed him and ripped the time machine off his belt. Blendin shrieked, “No! Don’t let her escape!”

Mabel kept running, knowing that in a few seconds she would be gone. “Later suckas! You just got time-tricked.” She pulled the reel and escaped into a burst of blue light. 

 

 -------

 

The mattress squeaked when she tumbled out to it--appearing out of thin air. Mabel steadied herself, time travel always made her head spin. The air smelt both clean and musty, like something was recently vacuumed. And the overly plush mattress beneath her made her knees wobble. Wait… mattress? She was supposed to be back at the laser tag arena.

She groaned, “That's right. Stan said this place used to be a mattress store. I went too far back. Time travel, man, why you gotta be so complicated?”  

Another bolt of light appeared next to her, making spots dance over her eyes. Grabbing the time machine Mabel dropped herself under the bed and waited, breath becoming stale in her lungs the longer she held it. Lolph, Dundgren, and Blendin all landed on one of the mattresses.

“It looks like she overshoot her destination by 10 years,” Dungren said.

10 years? Woah. She was way off.

“I don't see her. I’m gonna keep stammering until you find her. I-I-I-I-I…”

Mabel huddled herself further under the bed until she was practically rolled into a ball and waiting for their muffled voices to disappear. “Okay,” she whispered to herself. “All I have to do is jump forward about 10 years and save Dipper.” Looking down at the time machine, it's front was dented and the reel on it was stuck. “Aww, man. The time thingy is busted. I'm gonna have to fix it.” Pulling herself out from underneath the mattress, she noticed a sign across the street through the store’s front window. MYSTERY SHACK 1 MILE. “And I know just where to get the tools I need.”  

 

\-------

 

Sneaking into the Shack was easy. Because she walked through the front door. Stan was busy tricking some tourists outside, and no one knew her in this time period anyway. If she got caught, who cared? As far as anyone was concerned, she was just some kid. 

Walking into the gift shop she rooted through the tool box Stan always kept underneath the front desk. She grabbed a red screwdriver, and stared at both items in her hand. “I have no idea how to fix this.”

She sat down against the wall and fidgeted with it. The Mystery Shack did look a little different. Some of the attractions and gifts were old like the head of an enormous eagle and definitely fake magic crystals for sale. And, she shuddered, the wax figures were out on display. She did not want to think about those.

“Aw. Com’on candy. Fall. Fall.” Mabel looked up to see a boy struggling with the vending machine. So apparently that thing had always been a candy stealing trap. She sighed, tucked the time machine under her arm, and put on her best smile. “Allow me. You just need to know a guy on the inside. Bippidy-boop. Wop!” She repeated the method Soos had taught her that morning, slamming her hands and elbows against the edge of the vending machine in just the right places so it would pop open. Reaching in, she grabbed a handful of candy and held it out to the boy. “Jackpot.”

“Thanks dawg, you must be some kind of genius.”

“Well I,” she gasped. As the boy took the candy from her hand, she realized how familiar he was. His voice, his gopher-like teeth, the only person who still used the word “dawg.”

It was Soos! 

Of all the days to go back in time, how odd was it that she would meet tiny Soos! He was so small and pudgy! Mabel didn’t know whether to keep talking to him or run away. She didn’t want to change the future. Or cause the future. This time travel thing was messing up her head.

“You need some help fixing that tape measuring tape?” he asked, munching on a candy bar.

“I--” she stumbled for words. Before she could actually say anything, tiny Soos took the time machine and screwdriver from her. He twisted a few screws around, put all the insides back where they belonged, and popped the dent out of the side. “Hmm. How's that?” He shoved the screwdriver into his back pocket without thinking.

She gave it a practice tug. The time reel pulled its way out smoothly, revealing seconds and minutes and hours. “It's working... thank you.” That was Soos. Always helping her when she needed it most, even if he didn’t know it.

“Mi precioso. You keep wandering off. You don't want to be late for your big day.” Abuelita walked up behind Soos, taking his hand and walking him off. Wait… big day? Mabel felt her jaw drop to the floor. She went back exactly 10 years. It was still Soo’s birthday, or one of his birthdays. Maybe she could figure out what all his personal biz was and try to make his birthday better.

She looked at the time machine. How much time did she have to follow him? Well, technically all the time in the world. But with Blendin coming after her and trying to make it in time to save Dipper, she didn’t have much to spare. She pulled out the tape measure out. 

“Got her!” Someone gripped Mabel by her arms and lifted her up in the air. The time machine fell from her hands and clattered to the floor. Dundgren held her over the ground, which should have caused some kind of scene in the gift shop, but when Mabel looked around--everyone was frozen in time, like statues. She squirmed and kicked at him, desperate to get back to that time machine.

“No! No! Please, you have to let me go. I need to save Dipper!”

Lolph picked up his time machine and hooked it back on his belt. “Interference with death is strictly prohibited by time law and can only be granted by the permission of higher beings or through the power of a time wish. You have neither.” 

She tried kicking at his face, “Then I’ll get one!" Then she paused. "Uhm. What’s a time wish?”

Blendin shrieked again. “Have you been paying attention to anything today?”

“Nope. Not really. That's kind of what happens when you get kidnapped... hey, is this even legal?”

He groaned, “A time wish can grant you the ability to alter time paradox free. But you can only win it in Globnar!”

Mabel felt herself well up. Watery eyes and a swell of determination under her ribs. She had to try. She had to try for Dipper. She clenched her fists and took a deep breath. “Then I’ll fight you in Globnar! For Dipper!"

Blendin laughed, “Good luck. When I win that time wish, you’ll wish you were never born. Or rather, you’ll wish you were born, because I’m gonna wish you and your brother were never born!”

Mabel writhed around in Dundgren’s arms. “That’s some pretty big talk for a guy who doesn’t even have hair!”

“But I have training! What do you think I did in prison all those years?”

She paused. “Arts and crafts?”

“No! I was preparing for GLOBNA--” Lolph pressed a button on his watch, causing a big green mute sign to flash over Blendin’s mouth.

“Hey, it looks like I can mute him.”

“I wish we had known that earlier.”

 

\------

 

Appearing back at the stadium, Mabel found a pair of glowing purple handcuffs on her wrists. The stadium was chanting, people thrusting their fists into the air and screaming. The air smelt funny, like dirt, metal, and baby powder. And it was unusually cold against her face, making her skin sting.

The crowd went silent as a hole appeared at one of the stadium. A giant creature with glowing red eyes, a funny symbol on his forehead and wearing a diaper. “That’s one big baby,” Mabel remarked to herself. He was kind of cute, if you pretended hard enough that he didn’t shoot lasers out of his eyes. The future looked pretty wack. What other cool stuff did they have? Self-trying shoes? Tiny pizzas? 

“Welcome Globnar tributes!” Wow. And he had a great vocabulary too. But also a voice so deep that Mabel had to wonder what would happen when that baby grew up and hit puberty.  “I have a very important nap to get to so let's make this quick. You each have a chance to settle your time-feud through gladiatorial combat.”

A funky looking robot holding a giant hourglass shaped baby bottle filled with a mysterious substance that looked like a small liquid galaxy. _“You will have until Time Baby finishes drinking the cosmic sand in this hourglass.”_ The robot then proceeded to prod Time Baby, who rejected the bottle in a tantrum, in the face with it multiple times urging, _“Come on. It’s good for you.”_

“Prepare to lose,” Blending said, grinning at her from behind those seriously unfashionable goggles he always wore.

“In your dreams,” Mabel spat back. She didn’t have the choice to lose. 

 

\------

Mabel pressed her back up against the holographic purple wall, and caught her breath. She held her laser tag gun in the ready position, feeling the heave of her chest underneath the vest. Her whole body was scraped and bruised, each joint aching. But as much as it hurt she kept throwing herself into challenge after challenge.

When Globnar began Mabel thought she could handle it. She didn’t have to win all the challenges, just most of them. And she won quite a few: the time dog eating contest, cycle racing, speaking pig-latin, karaoke, and Jenga. Except there were 100’s of challenges (why did Time Baby have to take so long to drink his bottle) and her strength began to falter. Blendin was bigger than she was, and all that training did pay off. He knew what to expect from Globnar. He won all the battles against time sharks and spear throwing.

If only Dipper were there. He could have figured out those challenges. He would have won interdimensional chess and helped her in the wheelbarrow race. She needed him.

Picking herself up she fired at Blendin, getting a single hit and making him scream. All she needed was to get to that victory orb. The points didn’t matter. All she had to do was make it. Mabel pushed herself as hard as she could, putting all her effort into each step towards the victory orb. The closer she got, the more it seemed to glow a rich sunshine yellow. She was going to make it, if she kept her pace.

Blendin slammed into her, knocking her into the ground. Her arm skid across the metal floor, tearing at her skin and peeling it into thin slices until warm blood spilled out. Wincing, she tried to roll onto her side and assess the damage. Her hand and knees were scrapped raw. She looked up just to watch his hand slam down on the orb. 

"No!"

Time Baby finished his bottle, cosmic sand smeared on his chubby cheeks. “It is finished!”

“Yes! I have justice!” Blendin screamed. “I have won Globnar. M-maybe now my mom will be proud of me.”

Mabel watched in horror as Blendin’s score shot up to 999 points, leaving her entirely in the dust. Now Blendin was going to wish her and Dipper out of existence. But he had won, fair and square. She pressed her head into the sheeted metal floor and took another long deep breath. Warm blood was starting to ooze from her cut. Lolph and Dundgren came and lifted her off the ground by her arms as a new pair of handcuffs materialized at her wrists.

“You have made victory in Globnar. Before I give you your time wish, tell us; what fate have you decided for the loser?” Time Baby asked as Blendin approached.

He looked at Mabel. She dropped her head down and waited for it. After all, maybe in a universe where she never existed, Dipper would have never died. Maybe he was better off without her. If she didn't exist, she couldn't miss him. 

“I decide,” he paused. She tried to keep a straight face. She was ready to accept her fate. But then she started to cry--she wouldn't even get to say goodbye. Then Blendin sighed. “To let Mabel go free and heal all her injuries. And I’ll use my time wish to get my job back… Oh! And have pretty hair. I-I-I think that’s a good time wish.”

“So it shall be done,” Time Baby announced. Soft curls of brown hair sprung from Blendin’s no longer bald head while Mabel’s handcuffs clattered to the ground. The scrapes on her hands and knees healed over instantly, and all the other aches and pains inside her body dissipated from her entirely.

“Why? I thought we ruined your life?” she asked, looking down at her freed hands.

“Yeah, but," he let out a deep breath and rubbed a the back of his neck. "I was wrong to bring you here. A-all I did was put you in danger. I did a pretty horrible thing, especially after what happened to your brother. I should have just left it alone. And I know that if you had won Globnar, you would have been nice to me. I don’t want to be your rival anymore.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Blendin.”

“Now, you said your friend was having a birthday? As my first official duty as a member of the Time Anomaly Removal Squadron, I think I should escort you home.” He gestured her to come to his side, pulling out his tape measure. 

 

\-----

**Dear Dipper,**

**Today was WILD. So it was Soos’s birthday and apparently he doesn’t like his birthday. But once I talked him into celebrating with me, he seemed to be having a good time. We played laser tag and I baked a pizza cake. Stan even let Soos give him a hug for a 3 whole seconds! I still don’t know why Soos hates his birthday, but he said he couldn’t hate any day he spends with me. Problem solved!**

**But that’s not the crazy part. I was kidnapped and taken to the future. That weird time travel guy Bloonin wanted to challenge me to the death in this Japanese reality show. He was really upset that we made him lose his job, and I do feel kinda bad about that. I escaped for a while and made it into the past where I met tiny Soos. (He was so little! You should have seen it, Dipper.) Then I got caught ended up deciding to fight in Globnar because it meant I could win a time wish that gives you anything you want. Except I lost. On the bright side though, I guess Blendin and I are friends now?**

**I just can’t help but think that if you were there, we would have won! I wonder what we would have used our wish on. A swimming pool full of pudding? A space puppy? Shoes that light up when you walk?**

**I just wish I had won it today.**

**I would have wished for you.**

**Mabel**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another chapter I hated writing. The more I started writing the more I said, "Isn't it weird that you don't actually need Dipper to make certain episodes happen?". And then I got to this episode. Looking at the plot and dialogue, Dipper drives the plot forward a lot. This chapter also provided me with the question "And what if Mabel gets that time wish?" (which it was way too soon, I was gonna take this baby all the way). But then I realized the key line in the episode, "All twins are born birthday experts". And the new problem arose. In the show, this foreshadows the twins' approaching birthday as an end goal to the summer, and the fear that they will be split apart at the end of it. In my fic, Mabel has the realization that birthdays will be different and her goal is to prepare for birthdays where she isn't a twin. This allowed me to cut away a lot of the fluffy stuff and get right to the point. 
> 
> Also, here's to hidden Back to the Future jokes.


	7. The Boogie-Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper tries to defend the Woodstick Festival from a multi-dimensional being with an appetite for bad musicians.

_“Again,”_ Modoc commanded, hands tucked behind his back. _“When you feel yourself start to falter, don’t give up.”_

Dipper nodded and tried to focus. Flying was easy, you just sort of did it. Then there was flying with accuracy. Even non-corporeal bodies had their limits. There was only so fast he could fly and so far up he could go. The only way to improve was practice. And he was starting to mind the practice less and less. It was a good distraction.

As much as he felt an emotional tug to the Shack, after his last mystery hunt Dipper felt less at home there. He had to constantly wonder how much his family would miss him in a year or two. He had caused them so much pain by being so ambitious, and what would they do to ease that pain? What would he do when they were gone? It was best to prepare himself for life… or existence without them. It was time he embraced the mindscape for what it was.

He braced his feet and cleared his mind. He would get it this time. He closed his eyes and then pushed off. It was like being a superhero on Saturday morning cartoons. While he couldn’t feel the wind on his face or the thinning of the air he could feel...something. A sensation of the dimension around him bending. A weightlessness without having any weight. Feeling it deep within himself when he picked up speed.

When he looked down, he was just over the treetops, the forest shimmering beneath his translucent feet. And then there was the Shack, always the Shack. It looked so isolated from that far up. A small patch of certainty in a great wide unknown. Dipper felt himself waver, losing the will to stay up so high. So he fell.

The nice thing about this type of falling is that he knew he wouldn’t hit the ground. Instead, he slowed himself to a steady stop, lowering himself gracefully to his feet.

 _“Remember, boy, you have no physical body here. You need to let that idea go. Here you are in your mental form. Focus on your mind. Letting yourself become clouded with thoughts and emotions will make your mental form falter. Your limits are endless only if you allow them to be. As long as you believe in barriers, they will appear,"_ Modoc chided. 

 _“I know,”_ Dipper said looking at his shoes. _“I just get distracted, I guess. Once I’m up there, I look down at everything and I lose all focus. Maybe I need more practice or more time. I don’t know.”_

Modoc pursed his lips in thought. _“Perhaps it’s best we take a break. Stressing about it will only add to your distraction. We should do something else for a while.”_

_“Can I make a request?”_

Modoc gave an uneasy frown. “I’m _listening.”_

 _“Okay, just hear me out on this,”_ Dipper held out his hands and grinned. _“There is this huge music festival coming to town tonight. There’s going to be all these upcoming indie bands and hot air balloons.”_

_“No.”_

_“Awww. Seriously? Why not?”_

_“Because I have a nagging feeling you only want to go because someone important will be there.”_

Alright. Dipper would fully admit that even though he was supposed to be separating himself, he couldn’t fully avoid the living world. Sometimes he would find himself listening in on conversations or spying on people. Something to make his world seem a little more interesting. And yes, he did check in on Wendy and the other teens when they were talking about the Woodstick Festival with Mabel. He couldn’t help himself. It was an accident. He was bored and decided to explore the graveyard (which was a big mistake when you can phase through dirt and coffins) and stumbled upon them talking. He had to listen in. The concert was the perfect way to cure his boredom. You didn’t have to be physical to listen to music. And yes, it was also an opportunity just to check in on everyone. To see Mabel.

_“Okay, counterpoint. What good is flying and being completely incorporeal if I can’t use those abilities to go to concerts for free? Also I’ve never been to a real concert before and it’s kind of a rite of passage.”_

_“Again. No. I’ve been to the Woodstick Festival. I find the evolution of music to be tasteless and teenager culture to be,”_ he grimaced, _“also tasteless.”_

_“I know that teenagers are a little, actually a lot weird, but I’ll never have the opportunity to be one. Let me have this.”_

_“Dipper--”_ something whipped through the forest, twinking a bright purple against the sun.

Dipper spun around to look at it, but it seemed to glide across the ground too fast for him to see. Not really running or scampering but something else. Then it stopped, and turned around. A creature of nearly 7 feet, towered over Dipper. It had no face, just a black hole covered up by a pair of glitter covered, star shaped sunglasses. And wore purple sequined suit with a silver nylon shirt and a matching fedora. It’s fashion sense was somehow more outlandish than Mabel’s.

Dipper took a step back. It was… looking at him. Something was actually looking at him. Cocking its head, a wide, pointy-tooth grin spread across its non-apparent face. It lowered it glasses, seemed to give a wink despite having no indication of eyes. “You’re lookin’ a little stressed out there, kid.” It had the low and smooth voice of a man in some of Stan’s old music. “You gotta learn to mellow out.” It walked over to him, more like danced, a combination of moves from every era. It grabbed Dipper by the wrist, spun him in circled a few times, and then dipped him back so far back that Dipper was staring at the trees behind him. “Let the music move you.”

Dipper pushed himself away from the creature and fell the ground, pulling himself further towards Modoc. _“There’s no music playing!”_

The creature shrugged. “Some things come from within, my funky dude.” It tipped its hat, and moonwalked away.

 _“What was that thing?”_ He screamed, pulling at the sides of his hat in worry. _“Why was it wearing shoulder pads?”_ If his breath could pick up, he would have been panicking. It could see him, and touch him. He wasn’t entirely invisible.

 _“It’s a Boogie-Man,”_ the prophet replied, not having much of an emotional reaction to it.

 _“The thing that hides under beds and eats kids?”_ When he was little, his mom used to tell him that there was a Boogie-Man who would crawl out from underneath the bed's of children who didn't eat their vegetables or clean up their toys at night. Mabel didn't believe it, but Dipper did. He lived in constant paranoia of it, to the point where he tried to set mouse traps and rat poison under his bed at night. 

Modoc waved one hand passively. _“No.This is a multidimensional creature with an affiliation for music. It tends to hang out at music festivals and in nightclubs. They like causing trouble by stealing guitar picks and trashing vans. Otherwise it’s mostly harmless.”_

 _“Mostly harmless?”_ Dipper questioned.

_“Yes. Bad music can make it agitated and destructive. Back in the 90’s I saw it swallow a drummer whole...”_

_“It eats people!”_  

_“Only when angry. But it will respect us as inhuman beings. We have nothing to fear.”_

Dipper groaned and clasped his hand together and pointed both fingers at Modoc. _“Let me rephrase that. It eats people with bad taste in music and there is an indie concert in Gravity Falls tonight. Indie music isn’t good. It’s only passable! We need to stop the Boogie-Man from eating anyone!”_

_“Any creature’s interference with the physical world is none of our business. And besides, I told you not to go to that concert.”_

Despite being able to fly: Dipper felt permanently grounded with Modoc. Wait… flying. That was it. He smirked to himself. _“Well if you say so. I just saw it as a valuable learning opportunity. You’ve given me all this wonderful training and I have nothing to use it on. What a shame.”_

_“Are you trying to guilt me into this?”_

_“Not at all.”_ He gave a knowing smile.

 _“Fine,”_ Modoc grumbled. _“But you have to do it on your own. No help from me.”_

Dipper could not contain his excitement. Finally, something. Just something to do. He wasn’t going to be stuck with Modoc or wandering the mindscape alone. An actual mission. He could finally make something of his cursed existence. _“Yes! I swear I will not let you down Modoc.”_

He lifted his feet off the ground and shot off towards the festival.

 

\------

 

Dipper peaked out from behind one of the booths at the concert. He wasn’t used to having to hide, but since the Boogie-Man could see him, it only made sense. Another thing he wasn’t used to was watching people pass through his body. He had never been anywhere so crowded before. It was an unnerving sensation. Though he couldn't actually feel anything, there would be a momentary disturbance, a knowing that he was so close to interacting with the living world but still being so far away. 

The Boogie-Man was still wandering around, now dressed in a low v-neck shirt that was frayed at the bottom and a pair of very distressed jeans. It leaned back against a wall, nodding along to the beat of a song while the sunlight glinted off its thick rimmed sunglasses.

_“Okay, so far so good. I just have to wait here and make sure it doesn’t eat anyone.”_

For a while the Boogie-Man didn’t seem to do anything other than steal “hippie tea” from one of the vendors and occasionally slide a few pick-up lines on passersby who screamed immediately at the sight it. Dipper waited for what seemed like hours. The Boogie-Man just kept tapping its foot to the beat. A few girls started a drum circle. Dipper didn’t think they were bad, but they certainly weren’t good. They couldn’t keep rhythm and their voices were all off key when they sang.

But it was bad enough for the Boogie-Man. It seemed to perk up and then its Chesire-cat smile turned into a growl. It slinked along the side of one of the tents and rubbed its hands together, “Awful tunes make for good snacks.” It’s tongue slithered out of its mouth like a snake.

 _“Oh no! It really is gonna eat someone!”_ Dipper said to himself. He hadn’t actually thought through what to do in this kind of situation. Usually when he encountered mythical creatures the Journal told him what to do. But now he was on his own.

He braced himself, and pushed forward, flying at the fastest speed he could. It was a bad plan. Like, a really bad plan. But it was the only plan he had. Just as the Boogie-Man raised itself over the group of girls, Dipper slammed himself into it with all the force he could muster, knocking them both to the ground. The girls screamed and scattered at the sight of a 7 foot tall poorly dressed beast collapsing beside them. _“You messed with the wrong town!”_ Dipper raised his fist into the air. Yeah, this was a bad plan.

“Woah, woah.” The Boogie-Man raised up both its hands to shield itself. “You’re killing the vibe.”

_“You’re the one killing the vibe. You were gonna eat those girls for playing bad music.”_

“Nah, man. I went vegan. Eating humans just isn’t very fresh anymore.”

Dipper lowered his fist. _“Really?”_

“Yeah,” it shrugged.  “I just sort of eat other random stuff, like instruments or flower-crowns. It takes the edge off.”

He floated himself away from the Boogie-Man. _“Well now I feel like an idiot.”_

The Boogie-Man stood up to it’s full 7 foot form, and covered itself with a translucent glow that seemed to make it just as invisible to the real world as Dipper was. “Nah. Emotions make us do crazy things, man. You just gotta make peace with them, ya dig?”

Dipper sighed. What kind of monster went vegan and spouted hippie catchphrases? He dropped to the ground, sitting cross legged and resting his chin on his hand. _“That’s the opposite of what I’m told I need to do.”_

“You gotta, like, listen to the music.”

_“Thanks but metaphorical advice doesn’t help.”_

“No, I mean listen to it. I like this band, they got that new age vibe mixed with a little rock n’ roll. That’s a tough balance.”

Dipper closed his eyes. It was a good song. It had a catchy beat and good lyrics. It had actually been a while since he got to enjoy something. Sitting and doing nothing but listening to music. It made him feel at ease. Like he could think through everything that was going on. He had to find balance with himself, sort of how the song did. He was in the mindscape. All of his focus came from his logical mind. But all of his power came from his emotions. He had to make them work together.

Some guy started jamming on his tin whistle, breaking up Dipper’s thoughts. It was horrible, a high pitched screech with no sense of melody or anything. He wasn’t even playing  a song he was just blowing into his tin whistle. Dipper could see why a Boogie-Man would want to eat someone who did that. It really did kill the mood.

“Oh, that guy is really bad,” The Boogie-Man complained. “That is by far one of the worst sounds to ever pass through my… do I even have ears? Either way it’s making me kinda…” It’s mouth curled up and it licked its lips. “Hungry.”

 _“Hey. You said eating humans isn’t very fresh anymore.”_ Dipper interjected, jumping to his feet.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just starving, you know?” The Boogie-Man sighed. “It makes me irritable. This human-free diet isn’t very satisfying. But,” it turned to Dipper, mouth spreading out beyond its face, a forked tongue curling from its mouth, “you aren’t human. I could eat you and be guilt free. It will be just like eating real flesh.” Its arms slinked out from its tattered t-shirt like pitch black ropes, clawing at him.

Dipper took off into the air as the Boogie-Man reached for his ankles. He stared down at the monster below him. _“It’s cool. I’m safe as long as I stay up in the air. It can’t get me up here.”_  With a growl, the Boogie-Man shot its arms up into the air, multiplying them into thick snakelike limbs. _“Oh no.”_ He pushed himself higher into the air, as quickly as he could. But the black arms kept rushing after him, giving no sign of stopping. He needed another plan but had no time to think of a plan.

He was getting incredibly close to the tree tops, feeling himself waver already. And if he managed to go any higher up he would end up in the flock of multicolored hot air balloons, and then what? He couldn’t risk people getting hurt. The blackened arms kept getting closer and closer.

He looked down at the landscape below him. It was always so beautiful, the rich green of the pine trees, the soft texture the town seemed to possess, like it was drawn on a map. He could see every aspect of the festival. The vendors. The stages.  Mabel following closely behind the teens (he knew it had to be Mabel, she was the only person who would wear a rainbow sweater). And was that… Grunkle Stan making a hot air balloon of himself? That had to be the most horrifying thing he had seen all day and he he was about be devoured by a music-snob monster. But he felt that familiar twinge of affection.

And he finally understood what he had to do. Sometimes you had to fly up higher and higher to get a good glimpse at the world, including your enemy's weak spots. And other times, you had to stay close to the ground. So just as the multiple black apendanges of the monster nearly wrapped around him, he made the decision to fall.

He fell like a bullet, putting all of his speed into it. When you messed with Gravity Falls, you messed with his family. And Dipper couldn’t let that happen. So once he got close to the ground, he didn’t slow down like he usually did. Instead he brought down his fist with all the force he had gathered onto the Boogie-Man’s sunglasses.

 

\------

 

The odd thing about returning home after a mission was that he usually felt so tired. But that wasn’t a thing anymore. After listening to a few more bands he had decided to walk back, feeling that maybe he had enough flying for the day.

Modoc waited for him in the trees, seeming to be in the middle of meditation. _“I see you’re back early. I thought you wanted to enjoy your concert.”_

 _“It was only okay. There were a few good songs though. They had a nice balance to them.”_ He shrugged and stared up at the hot air balloons in the sky.

_“And the Boogie-Man?”_

_“Well it didn’t try to eat any humans. It was apparently on this human-free vegan diet. But it did try to eat me. So you lied about it respecting us.”_

That made Modoc’s usual expressionless expression go away and turn into concern. _“What? I know I shouldn’t have let you go. I can’t imagine what would happen if one immortal being swallowed another. Are you alright?”_

Dipper grinned, _“I’m awesome! That was the most exciting thing to happen to me in weeks! I got it to calm down by punching it in the face. Then I managed to convince it to leave town and never come back.”_ If only Grunkle Stan had seen it. That punch would have done the old man proud. And then maybe he’d call Dipper manly for once. _“Gravity Falls can sleep soundly tonight because it has Dipper Pines as its protector from all interdimensional beings.”_ As if on cue, something began to smoke and burn in the distance. The sounds of screams and cries echoed over the open sky. Dipper's jaw dropped. _“I swear, I have no idea what that is.”_

 

**Dear Dipper,**

**So I may or may not have stolen a love potion from a love god and caused a little bit of trouble, but that’s not the point. The point is I am a great match maker. All this stuff went down with Robbie so I got him to fall in love with Tambry, but guess what?!?! It worked. Apparently love potion only lasts 3 hours. After that, if it isn’t true love, your match will end. And Robbie and Tambry are still making out 10 hours later. MATCH MADE!!!! In the end, I guess love in a mystery.  Except to Grunkle Stan. Who says the only true love is money.**

**Speaking of Stan, he made a giant hot air balloon of his face that said “I EAT KIDS”. It scared (and scarred) a lot of kids. But like he says “All press is good press.” And it crushed the love god who was angry at me for stealing his potions. So pluses and minuses.**

**What have you been up to? Never mind. That's a silly question. I'm sure there's not much going on where ever you are.**

**Wish you were here,**

**Mabel**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was definitely one of the chapters I was most proud of. When I got the idea for the fic I told myself "You gotta figure out how to make your own monster of the week". I spent hours staring into a blank screen trying to come up with an idea. I decided to go with something rooted in the same music culture and asked myself, "What is the worst pun you can think of?" And boom. The Boogie-Man. And since I have a secret love of 70's/80's music, this chapter was a blast to write.


	8. Northwest Mansion Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pacifica enlists Mabel's help in ridding the Northwest Mansion of a ghost that will ruin their annual party. Dipper tags along, thinking he can talk the ghost out of his revenge.

_We interrupt this program to bring you breaking news!_

“It’s starting,” Mabel giggled to herself, kicking her feet up and down. Candy and Grenda squeezed close to her in the arm chair even though there wasn’t enough room for the 3 of them to begin with. It was the first time Mabel had seen either of them since her puppet show went very downhill. It was good to know that after everything that happened, she still had her girls by her side. And besides she needed a break after all the crazy adventures and vampire bat fighting she had been doing.

She reached for the remote and jacked up the volume. It was the Northwest family's annual high-society-shindig-ball-soiree! Mabel had only just heard of it but apparently it was the fanciest event of the year in Gravity Falls. Rich food, richer boys, and a live quail in every gift basket. The downside? “Common-folk” weren’t allowed in, whatever that meant. Mabel believed herself to be very uncommon.

“If only we could go,” Grenda sighed, staring at the TV wistfully.

“We are outsiders,” Candy muttered. “They will treat us like dirt and throw us out onto the street if we go.”

Dipper sat beside them on the floor with his back pressed against the side of the chair. He had decided it was time to return home. And Modoc never seemed to follow him into the house, that he had "seen too much through your Great Uncle's windows" but that he also allowed the living a certain level of privacy. _“Ughh. Why do you guys care about this stuff? It's just a dumb party for rich people.”_

“Come on, girls,” Mabel said as someone knocked on the front door. She slid off the couch and went to go answer it. “We don’t need Pacifica Northwest or anyone else to have fun and be fancy.”

She swung open the front door, just to see Pacifica, wearing a trenchcoat, some sunglasses, and a scarf. It was a pretty drastic change in wardrobe but Mabel liked the whole “black and white murder mystery” vibe it carried. “Hi Pacifica! How funny we were just talking about you.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to be seen in this hovel so I’m just going to cut to it.” She took off her sunglasses and looked directly at Mabel. “Something is haunting Northwest Manor. If you don’t help me, the party could be ruined.”

Mabel thought about it to herself. She knew nothing about hauntings. This would have been more of Dipper’s thing. But it was an opportunity to get into the coolest party of the year. Like she could turn that down? 

Dipper groaned next to her. _“Please tell me you aren’t seriously considering help her. Pacifica is the worst. I’d say that to her face if I could.”_

“Alright,” Mabel gleamed, “I can tear up your ghost and your party. Haha!” Then her grin became mischievous and cunning. That was the kind of smile Dipper liked to see. “But I’ll need 2 extra tickets for the party. I’ll be taking Candy and Grenda as my guests.” Behind her, her best friends squealed and grabbed each other’s hands.

“You’re just lucky I’m desperate.” Pacifica reached into her purse and grabbed 3 white envelopes with gold trim and handed them to Mabel. She took them and grinned, who was she to play it cool and hold back her excitement? Defeating a ghost shouldn’t be too hard. She would do it and spend the rest of the night partying.

“Oh and Mabel?” Pacifica’s voice changed from a mean-serious to an actual-serious. She sighed and looked away, putting her sunglasses back on. “I didn’t get an opportunity to offer my condolences for Dipper. I’m very sorry to hear about what happened.”

 _“No she’s not. Why would Pacifica Northwest care if I’m dead? All she's ever done is try to humiliate us."_ Dipper grumbled to himself, turning away so he wouldn't have to look at her stupid face or stupid fake blonde hair. He hated it when anyone other than Mabel or Stan tried to talk about it. It wasn't anyone's business that he died or that they had to feel sad about it. 

Mabel didn’t know what to think of that statement either. Mostly because she didn’t know what to do when people offered their condolences at all. “That means a lot to me.” Pacifica turned around to leave as Mabel closed the door and pressed her back up against it. She let all of her breath out in one huff. This was a time for laser focus. “Grenda, get the hot glue gun! We’re making dresses!”

 

\------

Pacifica came later that day to escort them to her very fancy mansion in a very fancy limo. Mabel was very proud of the fancy party dress she put together. A dress made of bright pink crushed fabric flowers. She was going to rock this party. And bust that ghost... but mostly rock the party.

Pacifica pushed open the front doors, allowing the 3 girls inside. “Welcome to Northwest Manor, dorks. Try not to touch anything.”

Mabel of course tried to touch everything. The manor was just so spectacular. “Fancy floors! Fancy plants!” She reached up and smushed one of the butler’s faces. “Fancy man!”  She never dreamed of being in a place like this. It was like a fairy tale castle or a daytime murder drama. The high vaulted ceilings and warm candlelight glow made the manor feel so romantic.  

“The rumors were true!” Candy held up a gift bag as a live quail and three babies popped out.

Mabel went to rush after the quail, but was pulled back by her wrist. “Where do you think you're going,” Pacifica snapped. “You're here because you agreed to help me.”

“Right. I can totally help you. It's not like I don't know anything about ghosts or whatever.” She clutched to the straps of her backpack.

Pacifica’s father approached them, most definitely trying to play the role of wealthy party host from the way he dressed to the way he spoke. “Ah if it isn’t the lady of the hour! Hopefully you can help with our little… situation, before the guests arrive in an hour.”

“What situation? There won't be a situation by the time I’m done!”

“Splendid,” Preston Northwest said. “Pacifica, take our guest to the problem room, will you?”  

“I'm on it.” She looked at Mabel with that serious glare that showed off just how much purple eyeshadow she wore. “Follow me.”

Dipper hovered over Mabel’s shoulder, watching as she kept starting over her shoulder at Candy and Grenda. But if he had any luck, whatever ghost was haunting Northwest Manor, he would be able to see and speak to it, just like the Boogie-Man. He’d just talk the ghost into leaving . It would be easy.

Pacifica lead Mabel into a room at the end of a long hallway. It smelt like old wood and smoke, a smell that made you want to curl up in one of the chairs tucked in the corner and doze off. A fireplace burned in the center wall, making the room seem darker by tossing shadows onto the table and bearskin rug. A portrait of a lumberjack hung over the mantel, certainly not one of the ancestors of the Northwests. The part that made Mabel’s skin crawl were the dozens of taxidermied animal heads, all of their false eyes staring at her.

“This is the main room where it’s been happening,” Pacifica said.

 _“Yup. This looked like the kind of room that would be haunted, all right. I mean I'm also a ghost and I sort of haunt every room I'm in, but you know what I mean,”_ Dipper said.

Mabel pursed her lips and pulled out the Journal out of her backpack. She flipped through a few pages and paced around the room. “According to this, Ghosts are on a 1-10 scale. Floating plates sounds like a Category 1.” She turned the book around to show Pacifica the hand-drawn image of a little round-headed ghost. “Look at how cute it is!”

“So what? Are you gonna bore him back into the afterlife by reading from this book?” Pacifica sneered.

Mabel grinned. “Yeah, maybe! Dipper bored me to sleep with it enough times.”

Dipper crossed his arms and scowled. “It's _not boring, it's informational!”_

Lightning flashed outside the window, causing Mabel to jump back. The room looked darker than ever before. When she peered up, the lumberjack in the painting had disappeared. “Pacifica?”

“Ah!”

Blood swelled from the mouths of the taxidermied animals, pouring over their teeth and sticking to their fur. It congealed on the floor, shimmering in the fire light. It oozed across the wood, reaching up to Mabel’s shoes. The head’s chanted, mouths moving up and down but the voices coming from all around.

_Ancient Sins._

_Ancient Sins._

Her heart started to race and her breath felt caught somewhere between her lungs. There was so much blood. Her joints locked into place. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t stop looking at it. The inside of her mouth tasted rusty and stale. Her vision felt entirely red. And the heads kept chanting at her. It was like they knew about what she did. “Please. Leave me alone. It was an accident! I didn’t know what would happen!” A thick static wrapped around her skull and filled up her lungs. The room started to spin. Items lifted into the air and hurling themselves like a whirlwind around the girls. Books, antique weapons, and furniture encompassed them.

“Mabel, what is this?” Pacifica shrieked, moving closer to Mabel's side. 

She didn’t move. She just kept looking at the blood. All that blood.

 _“Mabel!”_ Dipper shouted. _“Get out of here now. This is a Category 10!”_ A Category 10. He didn’t have the training to fight that off. Especially not without the Journal.

_Ancient Blood and Blackened Skies_

_The Forest Dark Shall Once More Rise_

Pacifica grabbed Mabel by the shoulders and shook her back and forth. “Snap out of it! What do we do?”

Mabel nodded, though her eyes were still glassy. Pacifica was right. She had to come up with a plan. She was supposed to defeat that ghost. “Okay. Well, it can’t get worse than this. Right?”

It got worse than that. The fireplace spit out more flames that licked up the walls. Mabel grabbed Pacifica and dove under a table. A black skeleton forged itself from the fire, giving form to ghostly specter. A lumberjack detailed in fire with a massive beard and an axe wedged into his skull.

 _“I smell… a Northwest!”_ An axe materialized in its hand that screeched across the hardwood floors. “ _Come out. Come out, wherever you are.”_

“Hurry. Read from your stupid book already,” Pacifica whispered.

“Right,” Mabel said, opening the Journal and flipping to the right page. “This looks scary enough. Category 10 ghost. Advice.” She pried the portable blacklight out of her backpack and illuminated the purple writing over the page. **PRAY FOR MERCY.** Her jaw dropped. “What the hey-hey Great Uncle Ford?”

The table levitated from over them, slamming into the nearby wall. The ghost floated above their heads, voice rumbling like thunder. “You shouldn’t have come here!”

Pacifica leapt to her feet, beckoning Mabel to follow. “This way! Hurry!” Mabel did not hesitate.

Dipper, however, hung back to confront the ghost. _“Hey, you! Lumberjack!”_

The ghost did not seem very chatty at the time. _“Out of my way, boy.”_ He drew his hand and then flung it full force into Dipper, knocking him through the walls of the manor and landing him in a completely different room. For once he was happy not to have a physical body. That would have hurt.

 _“Yeah, this is going to be way harder than I thought it would be.”_ He shot himself back through the walls and followed the ghost through the winding halls. He hand no idea where Mabel and Pacifica went, but that meant the ghost probably didn’t either. Picking up speed, he tailed up behind the ghostly lumberjack. _“Listen, man. I just want to talk.”_

 _“You waste my time,”_ the ghost replied. _“You have no quarrel here. Get out of my way.”_

_“A quarrel? What do you have some unfinished business? Maybe we can find a non-violent way to resolve this.”_

The lumberjack snarled at him, white, hollow eyes swelling with rage. _“And do you not have unfinished business of your own?”_

 _“Yeah, I do,”_ Dipper said, trying to fly just above the ghost's head, really doing anything to make him feel bigger and more powerful. _“That’s my twin sister you’re hunting down. So I’d appreciate it if you left her and everyone else here alone.”_

_“I have no business with your sister. Gather her and be on your way. I only seek the suffering of the Northwests.”_

_“Okay but the thing about that is,”_ he gestured to himself, _“I’m not like you. I can’t communicate with the living. I’m cursed to be here forever. So how about we make a deal? I’ll help you with your unfinished business in a non-violent way, and you can deliver a message to her from me. I know the Northwests, there's better ways to make them listen to you.”_

_“You waste my time! Wealthy blood must stain the ground.”_

Dipper raised himself into the air and balled his hands into fists. _“Alright, man, then you leave me no choice.”_

 _“No. I'm afraid not.”_ The ghost raised his axe into the air and swung it at Dipper. Or more accurately, right into Dipper, planting itself in between the wall and his abdomen. It didn’t hurt, but he could feel it lodged in his gut and sticking out of his back. It was stuck there. He tried to phase through the wall but axe held onto him. When he pulled on it by the handle, it didn’t budge.

 _“What? How is this possible?”_ He struggled against the axe, yanking and pushing at it to no avail. The lumberjack ghost didn’t answer him. Instead he stalked down the halls, new axe already materialized in his hand and scratching against the floor. But at least he had bought Mabel some time.

 

\------

Pacifica had dragged Mabel through the garden (and the peacocks) causing Mabel’s shoes to become clogged with mud and the hem of her dress to turn brown. Running through the halls of the manor, Mabel simultaneously tried to read through the Journal. “Stupid Journal. How am I supposed to find what I-- oh here. Haunted paintings can only be trapped in a silver mirror. That’s a dumb rule.” She looked around frantically. “Look there’s a silver mirror right there.” The Northwests sure had a lot of big rooms with no purpose.

She stomped her way towards the mirror, when Pacifica pulled her by the arm. “Wait! Don't go in there! This room has my parents' favorite carpet pattern! They'll lose it if we track mud in there!”

Mabel looked down at the carpet, a soft white with fine detailing. “Okay, that is really nice carpet. But that weird ghosty guy will be back any second.”

“Then we’ll find another way.” Pacifica tugged on the Journal, trying to pull Mabel away from the room.

Mabel tugged back, whipping Pacifica around. “Don’t touch that! It was Dipper’s.”

Pacifica tugged again, “Who cares? He’s gone and he’s not coming back! Let’s just find another way.”

“I care!” Mabel pried the Journal out of Pacifica’s fingers, knocking both girls back into a hollowed out wall behind a painting. She tumbled against the cold hard floor. The room was swallowed by a hollow darkness and the smell of foul dust. She coughed and wobbled onto her feet, pressing the Journal close to her chest.

Pacifica was already on her feet, looking around the hidden room of covered up portraits and old crates. “That’s weird. I don’t know where this room is. Maybe we’re safe here.”

Pacifica spoke too soon. As she turned her back one of the white sheets covering a painting extended outwards, first hands then a face, then a body. _“Your fate is sealed.”_

“Look out!” Mabel leapt forwards knocking Pacifica and a box of silver forks and spoons to the ground with a clatter. She tumbled across the floor, lungs swelling with dust. Stepping around the silverware, she looked down at the box of spilt items. And there, winking it's light back at her. “A silver mirror.” She grabbed it, metallic exterior slipping in her sweaty palm.

Pacifica stumbled across the floor as the ghost reared himself closer. _“Prepare to die Northwest.”_ And Mabel leapt between them mirror over her head and turning her head away.

Something knocked her back into Pacifica, sending both of them crashing through a first floor window and entangling in a long red curtain.

Mabel’s ears rung as they tumbled. She was getting awfully tired of how physically demanding these adventures were. The biggest mystery is how she remained in one piece.

When they stopped rolling, Mabel found herself under the vast gray sky. The air was wet and the grass damp beneath her. She knocked the hair out of her face and sat up.

Pacifica leaned over her. “Did you get him?”

The mirror was still gripped in her hand. Holding it up, the image of the lumberjack ghost pressed into the glass, pounding his fists against it. _“No! Free me!”_

“Yup and he is very cranky about it.”

“We did it!” Pacifica reached over and hugged Mabel, both of her hands pressed between Mabel’s shoulder blades. Then she stopped and backed off, her blue eyes wide with realization. “Uhh can I pay to you to pretend that never happened?” She held out a dollar, standing about a foot away from Mabel. Mabel didn't move.

 

\-------

Pacifica’s parents came to greet them in the garden. Deep clouds kept rolling in. The air smelt like oncoming rain and mud. She held tight to the mirror, careful not to let it slip.

“Well, Pacifica, you really found the right girl for the job,” Preston Northwest said.

“We can’t thank you enough,” Priscilla Northwest added, as a butler reached out and shook Mabel’s hand for a very long time. So long that it became awkward. “That’s enough.” She nearly sighed with relief when the butler let go.

Mabel thought she would be more excited. She defeated a ghost, and she was at this amazing party with her two best friends. That was good right? But it was definitely lonely. She kept running through the different scenarios. Dipper would have loved this. He had been into ghosts since they were little. Now he didn’t even get to enjoy it. 

Was Pacifica right? Was he really not coming back? 

Mabel shifted on her feet. The hem of her dress was rimmed with fresh blood. Looking at it made her feel sick. 

“Are you okay?” Pacifica asked. “You’ve been out of it all night.”

“Oh yeah! I’m awesome. Never been better.” She clicked her heels together absently. “Listen, I should probably go exorcise ol’ Axey McAxehead over here. So I’m just gonna go.”

“I thought you wanted to tear up the world’s best party.” She nudged Mabel’s elbow playfully.

“Maybe later.”  She spun on her heels and trudged through the grass, hiking up the front of her dress. What was wrong with her? Mabel knew she loved parties more than anything else. But now she had become too tired to even care. There was no party in the entire world that could make the weight in her chest go away. 

When she reached the gate that separated her from the outside world, she stopped. “Blarg! Just when I was starting to think Pacifica was really nice and cool, she had to say that to me! ‘Who cares?’ How can you say that to a person? Of course, I care! That's my brother we're talking about!" 

She heard a chuckle come from beside her. _“You’ve been had, girl. You remind me of myself 150 years ago.”_ Mabel held up the mirror and squinted in it, trying to discern between her own reflection and the trapped ghost.

“Over-dramatic?” she suggested.

_“What, no! 150 years ago this day, the Northwests--”_

She rolled her eyes and groaned. “Can we skip over your backstory? I’ve had a pretty exhausting day.”

_“Fine. The lumberfolk built their house, we didn’t get invited to their party, and then an axe flew into my head during a mudslide so I cursed their family.”_

“Oh wow, that’s terrible. But that doesn’t mean it’s okay to curse people and try to kill them. And the thing is, I have to like, exorcise you or something because you seem a little cray-cray.”

_“They avoided my ghostly justice. They knew this day would come and they did nothing, all they had to do was open the party gates to the common folk.”_

“Wait… that's it. That's all they had to…” she stopped. Things seemed much easier from far away. Doing the right thing always looked so simple in the end, but in the moment it's hard to give up everything. Her fingers itched. She could feel her sock puppets. “I can't blame them. Sometimes people get selfish. Or scared. Good people sometimes do bad things. But learning the hard way isn't always the best way.”

_“You hate them as much as I. Pacifica Northwest insulted you. She should pay for her carelessness.”_

“I don’t hate her. I’m just upset. You’re the one who’s gone murder happy. So yeah, I’m getting rid of you.”

 _“So it shall be.”_ The ghost thought for a moment and then smirked to himself, _“But what if I told you I spoke to your brother today. If you let me go I can deliver a message from him.”_

That was the first true spark of hope Mabel felt. It bubbled up inside her like putting a jumper cable to a car. “You spoke to Dipper? You mean he’s here? He’s okay?” It was true. He actually was there, this wasn't some lie that Bill wrote to give her false hope. Dipper was still out there. He could still come home. 

_“Oh he is here. And he has so much to say. Is it not worth the trade? Your brother for the fall of the Northwest family.”_

A smile slipped across Mabel’s face. An opportunity to hear from Dipper. She might never get that chance again. Everything had felt so empty without him. She just needed to know he was okay. She raised the mirror, prepared to smash it into the ground, and then she stopped. “No. That’s a dumb idea.” If she let the ghost go, the only thing she would hear from Dipper would be scolding. And to let a ghost hurt a bunch of innocent people just to speak to him wasn't worth it. She'd find another way. 

_“Very well. Then... before you banish my soul, may these tired lumber eyes gaze upon the trees one final time?”_

“Alright but keep your awkward tree love to yourself.”  She held up the mirror to the trees, but when she did it burned against her skin. The silver mirror scorched red hot. It seared, burning away at her palm. The mirror shattered when she dropped it, a thousand tiny fragments.

The ghost tore himself from his prison, blue wisps against the darkening sky. _“Yes! Vengeance!”_

Mabel could do nothing but stare as the lumberjack ghost flew off towards the mansion. “Oh no. What am I gonna do?”

 

\------

Dipper did not know how long he struggled against the axe lodged in his abdomen. How was it even possible for this to happen to him? He wasn’t even real and that axe definitely was. Modoc did not warm him about ghosts and other beings that could be so powerful.

Just as he was about to give up and admit that he was going to spend the rest of time as a wall hanging, the axe faded from existence. He dropped down, thankful for the mobility. _“That was weird. Hopefully, Mabel defeated that lumberjack guy.”_ He paused and looked around. _“Where is Mabel anyway?”_

He searched the entire mansion for her, in every room and around every corner. Did she go home? Was she hurt?

Then he heard the screams, guttural and painful. The sound of wood being dragged on wood echoed through the halls. “Mabel!” Dipper shot off towards the ballroom, every worry passing through his mind. He was supposed to be protecting people, protecting Mabel. And he was failing at the only job he could do.

When he entered the ballroom, he saw the chaos. Taxidermied animals had come to life, screeching and crawling their way across the floors. Vines and moss grew over everything, like time and nature had devoured all in sight. And the guests, petrified, literally turned into wood. Their jaws hung low and their eyes were so wide with fear that Dipper felt uneasy to see them. It was as if they could see him.

“ _Oh no.”_ He looked around, feeling more stuck than ever before. _“I can’t fix this.”_

The double doors burst open. Mabel stood between them, the flash of lightning illuminating off of her wet hair, now tumbling out of its updo and onto her shoulders. Her breath was coming in steady huffs, not afraid, but poised. A man crawled up to her, turning to wood from the legs up reaching for her with the last strain of hope, though there was nothing she could do. She stepped back, eyes wide and then stepped forward again.

The ghost laughed at the terror, surveying the work he had done. _“Just one way to change your fates: a Northwest must open the party gates.”_

Dipper and Mabel didn’t know it. But for the first time in a while, they spoke in unison. Two voices from two different dimensions. “Pacifica.”

Mabel darted through the room, hiking up her dress and tying up all the excess above her knees. She dodged behind tables and chairs to keep from the ghost’s sight, and drop kicked a taxidermied squirrel out of her way. Dipper kept behind her, flying on his back to make sure he could always see the ghost. He wasn’t of any use in the physical world, but at least he could distract the ghost in the mindscape.

Even when apart, they were a pretty good team.

Mabel ran back down the halls, following the flickering light from behind the painting that guarded the hidden room. She brushed passed the canvas, finding Pacifica absent mindedly turning a flashlight on and off.

“There you are! I’m so glad you’re okay. You have to come with me. The ghost is turning everyone to wood and he starting rhyming? It’s so cheesy! I need your help.” She grabbed Pacifica’s hand.

“What good can I do?” she mumbled, yanking her hand back.

“You can make the ghost go away. Please, only you can do it.” Mabel grabbed her hand again, this time holding harder.

_“Come on, Pacifica! If I were there right now I swear…”_

“I treat people like dirt,” Pacifica shoved her face in her knees, blonde hair falling down around her. “I lied to you about the ghost, I knew what it wanted and didn’t do anything.. I said awful things to you today. And it's all because of my stupid parents. I'm from a family of liars and cheaters. And I don’t want to admit it but... I feel sick to my stomach because well, of Dipper. The papers said he committed suicide. I was so awful to you guys that I can’t help but think I had something to do with that. He must’ve hated me.”

Dipper went entirely still. As limp as he could go since he died. _“No. No. It’s not your fault. I--”_ He was at a complete loss of words. A few weeks ago, he would have done anything to see Pacifica feel horrible and guilty. He would have laughed to see her that way. But now, he was the one who felt guilty. He inched closer to her. _“I don’t want you to care about me. My mistake hurt enough people already.”_

Mabel sat down beside her, not realizing she was speaking over Dipper. “Yeah he did. But Dipper hated a lot of people. You shouldn't take it personally. He could always be a bit of a grumpy grump. And besides,” she sighed and looked away. “Dipper didn’t kill himself. He was murdered.”

  
“What? Then why would all the reports say--”

  
Mabel's voice was dry and sour in her throat, and passed like a weak breeze. “Because no one else knows. It was more of this Gravity Falls supernatural biz, a demon named Bill Cipher. It had nothing to do with you. But please don’t tell anyone. They’ll just think I’m crazy.”

  
“I promise.”

  
“And Pacifica? Just because you’re your parents daughter doesn’t mean you have to be like them. I'm sure if Dipper saw you now, he'd let all of that stuff go.”

He smiled to himself.  _“Yeah. I think he would too.”_

“Mabel?” 

  
“Mhm?”

  
“Thanks.”

  
Mabel bounced to her feet. Gripping her hair she squeezed the water out of it, the wet strands sticking to her neck. Then she held out one hand. “Well, come on! We’ve got a party to save.”

 

\-----  
When they made it back to the party things were increasingly worse. So much worse than before. They walked into a forest. The room covered itself in a thick layer of moss and leaves. Trees uprooted the floorboards and scraped against the vaulted ceilings. And everyone was made of wood.

Mabel gripped the Journal in one hand and straightened out her back. She glanced over the room, already coming up with her plan. “I’ll distract him. You go open up the gates.”

“No! He’ll turn you to wood. It’s not safe.”

Mabel was already gone, running through the brush of the brush of the vines and the caked leaves on the floor. She leapt onto a table and grabbed a silver platter off the floor. It was close enough to a mirror, right? She didn’t have time to care. She held the Journal up with her other hand. “Hey, Beardy! Prepare to get Mabeled!” The ghost turned, eyes full of white nothingness. He raised a finger and zapped the Journal out of Mabel’s hand, charring more of its fragile edges. “No!” She scrambled for it, not even caring what would happen to her next. 

The ghost raised a hand, preparing to turn her into a wooden decoration.

 _“Mabel!”_ Dipper had never been so thankful he had practiced his speed. He took off like lightning, faster than he had ever been, and threw himself in front of Mabel. He didn’t know what would happen. If the ghost’s powers would merely deflect off of him or shoot through his non-existent body, but he had to try.

When the ray hit, he knew exactly what had happened. Somehow, from the feet up, he was turning to wood. Much like everything else in the room he would soon become a statue, except he was stuck like that forever. But at least it was an eternity of nothing, rather than loneliness. As the wood crawled up his abdomen, he looked to Mabel. She was stunned, clearly. She was supposed to be turning to wood, but wasn’t. _“If I can’t bounce back from this. I miss you, so much. And please keep writing to me. Because I swear one way or another we will see each other…”_ The wood crawled into his mouth, then down his throat. And then nothing.

Mabel stood still, afraid to move and disrupt whatever had saved her. But at least her plan had worked.

“Hey, ugly. Over here.” Pacifica stood on the opposite side of the room. “You want me to let in the townsfolk? Cause, I’ll do it! Just change everyone back.”

_“You wish to prove yourself? Pull that lever and open the grand gate to the town. Fulfill your ancestors’ promise.”_

Just as Pacifica reached for the lever, a hatch opened out of the ground beside her. Preston and Priscilla Northwest (plus a butler) pop out of it. “Pacifica Elise Northwest,” her father scolded. “Stop this instant! We can't let the town see us like this! We have a reputation to uphold! Now come into the panic room. There's enough mini-sandwiches and oxygen to last you, me, and a butler a full week.” He leaned forward and whispered, “We'll eat the butler!”

Mabel looked down at the silver platter in her hand. No one, not even a fancy man with a very fancy mustache talked to her friends like that. And it was like Grunkle Stan always said, anything is a weapon if you believe. She gripped the handle and drew it back. “Pacifica is nothing like you! You’re a meany butt-face, and Pacifica is really nice and she would never eat anyone!” The silver platter spun from her grip, soaring across the room and knocking Preston Northwest back into the panic room. Mabel felt kind of bad about that, but she also felt really cool. She wasn’t expecting the platter to go that far.

“I decide what I do! Not you!” Pacifica pulled the lever.

The rest was a flood. The townsfolk poured in by the masses, oblivious enough to the strange, earthy decor and petrified people. But it was loud like a party should be. And crazy like a party should be. Everything felt right.

The manor altered back to its original form, plants fading away, the people slowly returning to their usual selves (though now terrified). Dipper felt himself shift back as well, the curse being lifted off of him. He looked down at his hands in awe. _“This has officially been the weirdest night of my life.”_

The ghost hovered over the girls, a soft smile now pressed into his face. _“Pacifica, you are not like the other Northwests. You are much better.”_ Then he turned, and looked at Mabel. _“And Mabel, I owe you a message. Your brother said he misses you, and to please keep writing to him. He will find a way to see you again.”_

Her hand pressed up against her mouth, the tears already hitting at her fingers. She couldn’t stop smiling. For once, everything felt less lonely. “He’s okay. He’s really here.”

Dipper stood so close to Mabel, knowing that she couldn't hear or see him. But it felt so good to be so close anyway. _“I am.”_

The ghost raised himself into the air, luminescent blue body fading from existence. _“Finally. I feel lumber-justice.”_ With that he disappeared, the axe in his head slamming into the ground.

 _  
_ Mabel dropped to her knees. She couldn’t stop crying but this time it was okay. It was absolutely okay. Pacifica kneeled down next to her, hand on her shoulder. “Dipper, you’re really here. This whole time.” She rubbed at her eyes, laughing through the hiccups. “I promise I won't stop. We can do this together. I will bring you home.”

 

\-----

Mabel had decided to stay and enjoy the party. That's what Dipper would have told her to do.  She finally met back up with Candy and Grenda and apparently Grenda’s hot Austrian date? Pacifica hung at her side for the short time she was there, and together they trashed her parents’ favorite carpet pattern. It was becoming the best night of her life.

“Woo! Scobbity-doo! Hornswaggle m' goat knees!” Old Man McGucket came up beside her. Mabel hadn’t seen him around since the run in with the Blind Eye, but he was looking slightly more… normal? That was the word. His eyes were less crazy, but far more tired beneath the green tinted glasses he wore.

“Hey, McGucket! What’s--” she didn’t have time to finish her sentence as McGucket gripped her by the shoulders and pulled her off into a corner to speak privately.

“Mabel! I've been lookin' for ya. I fixed the laptop. I been doin' calculations, and I think something terrible is comin'! The apocalypse! The End Times!” He flipped her the screen of the laptop, a countdown with 24 hours remaining and the words IMMINENT THREAT across the top.

Her breath caught. What else could it be? It had to be. “The portal. It’s opening.” Stan had done it. He fixed it. That was the only thing she could think that the laptop would be hooked to. “Thanks, McGucket. I need to get home right away!” She ran out of the party, not caring what else McGucket had to say or about the mysterious tapestry that hung on the wall that made her head spin when she looked at it. Everything she cared about would change. 


	9. The Portal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning home from the party, Mabel talks to Stan about the Portal opening and Ford's arrival.

Mabel had her arm laid out over the cold metal table in the basement, using it as a pillow as she wrote her final thoughts in the Journal with a crooked grip on her pen. 

 

**In the end, I’m glad Pacifica and I are friends now. And even better news, the Portal is working. I’m sure you know that, but I just had to tell you anyway. I’m so excited to meet Grunkle Ford. And he can help me talk to you. I mean he built this awesome portal so I’m sure he can find you.**

**Wish you were here (like here-here and not ghostly-here),**

**Mabel**

 

She set her glitter pen down, admiring her artwork of Category 11 ghosts and top ‘10 Dance Moves to Crush Any Party’. The Portal whirled behind the glass, a soft lullaby of promises for the future. The blue light from the power source of the machine was soft on Grunkle Stan’s face as he adjusted dials and pulled levers with meticulous thought. It seemed to take some of the years off his face, replacing the hard lines with something more youthful and delicate. He looked so focused and calm. Mabel wanted to take a picture of him and keep it in her scrapbook forever. 

The Portal seemed alive somehow, surrounded by the blue pulse of light and the spinning of a miraculous rainbow. And it hummed and cooed into the soft steel night. The Portal even made gravity reverse itself momentarily and had her floating out of her chair! How bonkers was that? But now she felt the pull of the day strain on her shoulders. Mabel yawned and pressed her head down further into her arm. She was still in her party dress, but it had thankfully dried from the rain, though the mud and blood remained caked to the hem. 

Stan chuckled, “Good party, huh?”

“Bombastic party.”

Stan leaned over and pulled the Journal closer to him. Then he sighed, wrinkles pressing further into his face. “You and Dipper. You’re just like my brother.”

“You think so?” Her voice perked as she popped her head up.

He shook his head. “That’s not a good thing, Mabel. Ford is stubborn and careless. He throws himself into dangerous situations without thinking. That's how he got into this whole mess. I mean, ghosts? I’m okay with you playing in Gravity Falls but this stuff is dangerous.”

“Danger is my middle name,” she mumbled.

Stan rubbed his thumb and index finger against the bridge of his nose. “I’m being serious. I know that all of this supernatural stuff is helping you work through everything with Dipper, but this is the same thing that got him killed. What if something happened to you?”

Mabel sighed. Thinking about her own mortality was the last thing she wanted to do. It would only make her feel scared and lonely. But she didn’t consider Stan, or her parents. She didn’t consider that dreaded _what if?_ She tucked one of her hands under the crook of her head, “Alright. I’ll be more careful.” Then she crossed her fingers. A complete lie.

“Good. Now it’s time for you to hit the sack. It’s almost 2 in the morning.”

“No!” Mabel whined. “I want to be here when it happens. It’s the perfect scrapbookortunity!”

“That’s 18 hours away. Now come on." He scooped Mabel up in one arm, carrying her against her will to the elevator. Her dress crunched and crinkled when he moved. “Time for bed.” When did it become like this? Before any of this happened, Stan was never so gentle with her. Never so concerned with when she went to bed, or what she was doing during the day. “But aren’t you excited? You get to see your brother again.”

Stan chuckled to himself, although it didn’t sound very sincere. “More nervous than anything else. I haven’t seen my brother in 30 years. I don’t know what I’m going to say to him. And I don’t know what this portal is going to do when it opens. I just hope everything goes right.”

“It will.” She yawned and put her head on his shoulder, taking in a deep breath of his smoke and dust scented clothes while the elevator rose steadily back up into the gift shop. “Do you think Grunkle Ford will like me?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t he?”

“Oh. I can’t think of any reasons. I’m irresistable.” The bridge of her nose and hollows of her eyes fit nicely into his shoulder. She could have slept comfortably, there in his arms. Stan’s feet pounded against the floor as he walked up the stairs. “Dipper is probably going to lose his mind. This is what he's been searching for all summer and he won't even get to fully experience it. But that's okay. With Grunkle Ford here, we can be a family again soon enough.”

“Yeah,” Stan muttered to himself. “A family.” He walked through the attic door and set Mabel down on the bed within the mound of her pillow and stuffed animals. “But that's still far away. Just get some shut eye for now.”

She yawned, kicking off her shoes and prying her socks off. “Good night, Grunkle Stan.”

He ruffled her hair with gentle fingers. “Night, kiddo.”

Stan closed the door behind him and pressed his back against it. He put one hand up to his forehead, slightly knocking his fez to the side. “Oh, man.” Then he sighed and lowered his voice. “Listen, Dipper. If Mabel’s right and you’re out there watching us, don’t get your hopes up. I know Mabel really believes she can bring you back. Gravity Falls is weird, but I don’t think it’s possible. I just want to keep her out of danger. I’m not losing her too.”

 _“I know. I don’t want to lose her either,”_ Dipper said, a sadness hanging off each of his words as his back slid against the wall and down to the floor. _“That's why I need to shut down the portal. I have to stop Bill.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the things that always gets me about the show is that Northwest Mansion Mystery, Not What He Seems, and Tale of Two Stans happen in 2 days. Whaaaat? That's crazy. It doesn't get mentioned in the show the amount of stress that might put the kids under, so I wanted to use a small section of my fic to remind the audience just how much happens to them.


	10. Not What He Seems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day that the Portal is meant to open up, Stan gets arrested by the US government and Mabel is taken into protective custody and must find a way to escape. Dipper prepares himself to fight Bill, fearing that he might try to enter through the Portal.

“I wonder what’s behind door number 5,” Mabel said opening another random door in the Mystery Shack--you know, being a creep. Her floppy disk pajamas clung to her legs and her socks collected static on the carpet. She was just too excited to sleep that night. Waddles oinked beside her poking his head into the closet. An abundance of fireworks and sparklers were stacked up in the corner in a box labeled DO NOT TOUCH. This old shack was full of cool stuff! It was like finding buried treasure behind every door. She turned to her pet pig and grinned. “Waddles, were both thinking the same thing.” She thrust one fist in the air and Waddles oinked in unison with her, “Crazy rooftop fireworks party!”

“Not so fast, Mabel.” She turned around slowly to see Grunkle Stan frowning over her. “There is no way on Earth you’re setting off those dangerous, illegal fireworks…” then he smiled and put a hand to her shoulder blade, “without me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why the heck not? We’ve finally got something worth celebrating. And it sets up a good alibi... just in case the Shack burns down later... Don't want the cops on our back." Mabel nodded and pretended to draw a zipper across her lips. 

After getting dressed, she and Stan went out onto the roof. The air up there was cool and fresh, wrinkled with the fresh taste of morning in her mouth. Stan carried up the fireworks while Mabel pulled up a cooler of icy-pops and Pitt Cola (the breakfast of awesomeness she called it). The morning sun had just pulled over the sky, leaving everything a fresh, light blue. Stan sat in a lawn chair and lit Mabel’s sky rocket for her with a sparkler. “Here you go, sweetie. Light something on fire for your Grunkle Stan.”

She aimed her rocket, and let it launch off into the forest. “I am the god of destruction!” It gave off a multicolored spark that you could easily mistake for the magic glow of fairies or wizards, but Mabel liked how magical normal things could be.  

Meanwhile, Dipper was not as happy as his sister. He paced back and forth outside, muttering to himself. _“I need to shut it down, but how am I supposed to do that? Maybe if I go out into the forest I could find someone who could. But who knows what type of creature I’d be letting into the Shack.”_ He groaned, and spun around mid-step. _“Or maybe I’m just paranoid. I’m sure Stan wouldn’t build a machine that could potentially destroy the universe by letting a homicidal demon into the real world… unless he doesn’t know.”_

 _“Dipper, are you alright?”_ The familiar sight of a Native American man in a strange headdress stood over him.

 _“Modoc! I can’t believe I’m actually happy to see you."_ Dipper sighed. 

_“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear that insult. What is troubling you?”_

_“You mentioned that Bill asked you to build the portal. What can you tell me about it? Where was it supposed to go? Was it dangerous? If, hypothetically speaking, there was another one of these portals that actually worked, do you think Bill would really try to get through it?”_ Without noticing, his pacing turned into flying back and forth at high speeds. 

Modoc rubbed his fingers against his temples. _“I know you are speaking of the portal that resides beneath your home.”_

_“You know about that?”_

_“I saw Stanford Pines build it. He was tricked by Bill, just as you and I were. I saw everything.”_

_“That’s what I was afraid of,”_ Dipper stopped his pacing. _“Do you think we can shut it down? If Bill can used that thing to get into our world, then…”_ he subconsciously put one hand to the back of his head where his skull had been smashed open. _“We have to stop him.”_

_“I’m afraid there is nothing we can do. You must understand that we cannot make contact with the physical world. And say Cipher does come through the portal, do you honestly think you could fight him off? He is what put you here. He would ultimately destroy you with a blink of his eye. The most we could do is avoid him and be respectful of his presence.”_

_“But what if I want to be the last person,”_ Dipper shouted back. _“You go on and on about how we can’t do anything. But I’ve made contact with the living. There is always something I can do. I want to be the last person to be tricked by Bill. I want to be the last person he hurts. And I can’t do that by watching.”_

 _“Dipper,”_ Modoc got down on both knees and put his hands on Dipper’s shoulders. _“You are very brave to want to stand up to Cipher. But I cannot let you destroy yourself. It is not only my duty to show you the ways of the mindscape but to protect you from its dangers. Who knows what Bill would do to you? If something happened to you, I would not forgive myself.”_

 _“There has to be a way…”_ a water balloon smashed into the ground at Dipper’s feet as Mabel screamed with delight and ran straight through his incorporeal body. 

“Ah this is what Saturdays are for. Doing dumb things forever,” Stan said, watching his niece throw water balloons at her pet pig, blissfully unaware of his nephew’s distress.

“Dumb things forever!” Mabel repeated, launching herself into a pile of water balloons that pop into a burst of water and colored latex. The water was delightfully cold against her arms, her sweater having been tied around her waist and pine tree hat adjusted to keep the morning sun out of her eyes. Her hair stuck to the back of her neck and the sun baked her cheeks a deep sunburnt red. She took a bite out of her icy pop, feeling the cold ache run through her teeth. “Grunkle Stan, you are the greatest Uncle ever.” She launched a water balloon in his direction.

He chuckled to himself and dodged her attempt. “Alright, alright..” He got up off the couch and walked up to Mabel. “Enjoy all of it while you can. Today’s the big day and it’s not over yet.”

“Big day!” She shouted raising her icy-pop into the air.

“Haha! Nothing's gonna stop us now.” A glowing red dot appeared over Stan’s fez. “What is that a ladybug?” He smacked at it, but it didn’t budge. Instead it multiplied, all over his body. He looked down at Mabel. “Oh no.”

From out of the bushes and behind trees, multiple men in black clothing and masks rushed towards them, tackling Stan to the ground. Shiny black cars rolled up to the Shack, two men in sunglasses and suits stepping out. “Target secure! Take the house!” A helicopter flew overhead, more government agents swinging down from ropes. Some of them landed on the ground, while others smashed through the windows of the Mystery Shack. Glass shattered onto the grass while the helicopter blew the stale morning air into Mabel’s face.

“What the-” she turned towards the Shack but an agent put his arm out in front of her and pushed her back. 

“Child secure. Roof team, go!” Another agent pointed a weapon at Waddles. “Pig secure. We have secured a pig!” Waddles squealed and tucked behind Mabel’s legs.

An agent led Stan to one of the black cars, handcuffs around his wrists. “Uhg. Hands off, you stooge.” The man in black shoved Stan’s face onto the trunk of the car. “Ah! I don’t understand. What did I do that warrants this much arresting?”

The two men in suits walked forward, Mabel thought they looked familiar. Dipper recognized them both. He watched all of it, wanting to help but even if he could, he felt frozen in place. _“The government guys? I thought they got eaten by zombies?”_

 _“For someone bent on heroics, you sound rather disappointed that they survived,”_ Modoc countered. Dipper rolled his eyes but didn’t reply.

Agent Powers held up a screen for both of them to see. “This is security footage of a government waste facility.” It displayed a figure in a yellow hazmat suit hauling away barrels of waste. It was definitely Grunkle Stan. He said he needed radioactive waste to power the portal and told her not to worry about where he got it from. But Mabel kept quiet and tried to look as confused as possible, which was very confused. “At o'four hundred hours last night someone robbed three hundred gallons of dangerous waste.”

“Wait you think that’s me?” Stan lied through his teeth as an agent slammed his face against the hood of a car.

“There aren’t even four hundred hours in a day!” Mabel shouted.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Pines,” said Agent Powers.

“But I actually am dumb! Last night I was stocking the gift shop, I swear.” An agent led him away into the backseat of a car.

“Wait! Grunkle Stan!” She screamed, trying to run for him but was held back by Agent Trigger. “You've got the wrong guy! My Grunkle Stan might shoplift the occasional tangerine, but he's not some evil super villain!”

Agent Powers stepped up to her. Mabel felt herself shrink, shoulders hunching and arms cocooning around herself. “Listen, kid. We've been watching your family all summer and we've seen some disturbing things. But nothing as dangerous as what your uncle is hiding. Somewhere hidden in this shack is a doomsday device! Sorry to break it to you, kid, but you don’t know your uncle at all.”

 _“Oh no. It really is going to destroy everything.”_ Dipper said, resuming his pacing. _“Oh no. What are we gonna do?”_

_“There’s nothing we can do. The government will handle it.”_

_“Yeah, but that’s just causing more problems. What if Stan goes to jail? I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s been to jail. But that means Mabel goes home and that’s it!”_ He realized then how much hung on Mabel’s shoulders. Not just the pleasure of her summer, but everything in Gravity Falls. Finding the author of the Journals. Destroying Bill. If she went back to Piedmont for the summer, it was game over. _“If she leaves… I won’t ever get to speak to her again.”_

_“Would you rather have that or the Portal? You must realize that there is nothing you can do.”_

Dipper didn't answer. He didn't want either of those things. He wanted his sister. 

Trigger walked away as a new agent came and took her icy-pop out of Mabel’s hand and put it in an evidence bag. “Icy-pop. Clear.”

“Hey!” Not cool. Now she didn't even get to finish her icy-pop. 

As she was escorted into a police car, Stan banged his hands against the window of the government vehicle, handcuffs bound at his wrists. “Listen to me, Mabel. It will be okay! Trust me.” And he nodded at her, a cold calculation. She knew what it meant. And she nodded back, the tears welling up in her eyes. What would happen if they took him away? She didn’t want to be alone again. She didn’t want to go home.  

Agent Trigger pushed her into the car as Waddles scurried onto her lap in fear. “I trust you!” she shouted back. Both cars took off in opposite directions. Mabel could feel a literal tension in her gut the farther away Stan got. 

Dipper levitated himself off the ground, as Modoc grabbed him by the wrist. _“Don’t you dare think about following her.”_

 _“I wasn’t.”_ He looked over his shoulder and watched her leave. _“Mabel is smart. She’ll use her head and think of a way out. I’m going to keep an eye on the Portal. I want to be ready when it goes off. And you can’t do anything to change my mind. I’m ready to fight Bill.”_ He yanked his arm away and flew into the Shack before Modoc could follow. 

 

\-------

Mabel scribbled in the Journal as quickly as she could, hiding it between the door and herself as the car bumped down the street. Waddles pressed his nose against her side, trying to hide behind her.

**And now I’m trapped in “protective custody”. I have no idea where Agent Trigger is taking me and he keeps looking at me with his weirdly intense eyes (his hair looks great though, I wonder what product he uses?) Oh no, He just saw the Journal. I hope he doesn’t ta__**

Trigger pried the Journal away from her with one hand, keeping the other on the steering wheel. “Hey! Give that back! It’s not yours!”

“I’m taking this as evidence.” He tossed it onto the passenger seat without a care. A screen at the front of the car rang like a telephone. Trigger tapped it to answer. He was a very unsafe driver. Worse than Stan. “Trigger here.”

Agent Powers appeared on the other side. “We’ve got Mr. Pines in custody. Our men are searching the Shack for the device. You take care of the girl.” The screen went dark.

Mabel gasped, “What are you gonna do to me?”

“I’ll be taking you to child services,” Trigger replied.

“Boo!” Not good. Not good at all. Child services meant calling her parents. They would definitely forbid her from ever seeing Stan again. And even if she did try to tell them the truth about the Portal and Bill, would they even believe her? She had to find a way out of this.

“In the meantime,” he pressed some buttons making a television screen light up, “enjoy some mindless reality TV, designed to pacify you and make you stop asking questions.”

She groaned and pressed her head against the window and groaned, completely ignoring the TV. “I just need to think of  a way out of here. Think Mabel… think.” She stared out the window, absentmindedly rubbing at Waddles ears. In the next lane over, Manly Dan drove a logging truck with a Sev’ral Timez bumper sticker on the back. She missed that, the days when a boy band was one of her biggest concerns. That was the best kind of obsession--the kind that everyone shared. Wait… that seemed like a good plan... 

She breathed against the window until it fogged up and dragged one finger across. SEVRAL TIMEZ IS OVERRATED. That should do it. She tapped the glass to get Manly Dan’s attention and then pointed at her message mockingly. He was a very angry and passionate guy. She’d let him do all the hard work.

She pulled Waddles onto her lap and held him close. “Get ready,” she muttered to him. Then she felt the full force of the logging truck slam into the tiny black government car. The first thing to shatter were the windows. She turned her face away from the glass as it pelted against her sweater and the brim of her hat. Then the side door dented from the impact. The whole car rolled over from the blow, tumbling into the forest. All she heard were the sounds of shattering glass, crunching metal, and a high pitched whine in her ears. Mabel kept her grip tight on Waddles, thankful for the invention of seat belts. The roof smashed inwards with the windshield in one swift motion. Then the car rolled into a tree, breaking off some of its branches and then coming to a halt. 

She opened her eyes. That went well. Waddles was okay. And she only had a few more cuts and bruises than what she had that morning. Opening the door she dropped on to the grass and smiled, “Haha, yes!”

Agent Trigger was pinned down between the car and a tree branch. He kept yelling into his microphone. “Back up. Requesting back up.”

Leaning down, she plucked the earpiece out of Trigger’s ear and dropped it to her ground, allowing her foot to crush it into tiny shards. “I’m gonna go clear my uncle’s name.”

“Oh, you poor kid. You really think your uncle's innocent? I've seen it all before.” Mabel walked forward and then paused to listen. “False names, double lives, one minute they're playing with water balloons, the next they're building doomsday devices. Your uncle scammed the whole world. You gonna let him scam you, too?”

Then she turned around adjusting the hat on her head. Then she leaned down to face him, her brown eyes pelting against his soul. She wanted him to see the truth. That she wasn't a sweet little girl anymore-- she was so much more. "You don’t know what you’re talking about. You guys said you had seen some pretty disturbing stuff this summer. But it is nothing like the stuff I’ve seen. If you think Stan is a bad guy it’s because you have no idea what is actually out there, just how bad someone can be. I'm trying to save the world, because something is coming and it will take everything you love." 

“You’re gonna regret this!” The airbag inflated against his face causing the car horn to ring against the air.

“No. I'm not. Oh, and one more thing.” She walked over to the opposite side of the car, throwing open the door. Her hands fumbled around inside, trying to avoid the tiny slivers of glass. “This belongs to Dipper.” She pulled the Journal out from under the seat, pages bend and cover flaking away more and more with each day. “He would totally freak out if I lost it.”

 

 -------

Mabel and Waddles snuck back into the Shack through the attic window and the power of her grappling hook. She gathered some supplies out of her room: memory eraser ray, black light, cubix cube. Anything in case of an emergency.

Then she crept down the stairs, holding her breath as to not alert the government agents. She had to get passed them somehow. She needed a distraction. Waddles oinked next to her and pointed his snout to the top of the stairs. She grinned. “You're one smart pig.”

She climbed back up the stairs and settled in front of the big red window in the attic. There was something foreboding to its presence. Like she was being watched. “You stay here, Waddles.” She cracked open the window and slipped onto the roof. She could see everything up there. The helicopter, the agents, their cars-- which meant she had a perfect target. And good news, all the fireworks were still up there. She grabbed one of the sky rockets and grabbed Stan’s abandoned lighter. She let out a deep breath and angled the rocket downwards. Then she lit the fuse and let her rocket soar. It blasted into the side of a car, setting off sparks and setting the grass on fire. The agents scrambled, calling for backup.

“Yes! The god of destruction strikes again!” She climbed back through the window, bolted down the stairs and into the gift shop. But when she got there, someone was standing in front of the vending machine.

“Soos?”  

“Ahh!” He turned around and looked at her. “Oh, Mabel. Where have you been?”

“Fighting the government. What are you doing here?” She glanced over both shoulders to make sure the government agents hadn't come back. When had she become so paranoid?

“Stan gave me a mission to protect this machine!" He patted the vending machine. "Ha! And I thought I loved snacks.”

“The portal, Soos. He was talking about the portal.”

“Oh. I guess… I guess I should have figured that one out.” She reached over and pressed the code into the keypad:  A1BC3. “What are doing?”

“I'm going to wait for the machine until Grunkle Stan comes back. Someone has got to protect it.” The vending machine swung open, a waft of cool air hitting her bare legs and face. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“All of my ideas today have been good ideas. I'm on a roll.” They both walked inside, closing the door behind them.

Soos looked around at the concrete structure, dim light, and six fingered handprint on the wall. “I've never been down here before. It's like a video game.”

Mabel sucked in her breath. “More like a dream.”

They took the elevator down to the Portal room as Mabel let her backpack droop off of her shoulders and onto the floor. She slid into Stan’s chair and stared through the glass, countdown clock still with hours to go. Her eyes settled on the photograph of her and Dipper that Stan kept on his desk. She pick it up and dragged her fingers across the glass.

“Just a few more hours.”

 _“Yeah,”_ Dipper sighed. He had been watching the Portal for hours with no luck in turning it off. He would just have to wait for the worst to come. _“Just a few more hours.”_

\------- 

Mabel sighed, and put her cubix cube down. It stopped being entertaining hours ago-- she had to admit she could never solve it. Over her head, the countdown was onto its final 5 minutes. She could feel her stomach sinking lower and lower. The Portal had become incredibly active, constantly pulsing out more of the ‘gravitational anomalies’ Stan warned her about. It’s rainbow hue was turning whiter and whiter. “Stan’s been gone for so long,” she muttered to Soos. “I’m starting to get worried.” She wanted to go find him. But someone had to be there when it opened. 

“He’ll be back. Any second now. Stan’s always got a plan.”

“Right…” She flipped open the third Journal to its Portal page. The pictures and code made no sense to her. And why did Great Uncle Ford even build it? The Journals were so vague and weird. Like he had completely lost his marbles. She flipped open the other two to the adjoining pages, stacking them together in their proper order until the picture was complete. She reached into her backpack and pulled out the blacklight. “Well, spooky interdimensional gateway. You’re my only hope. What do you got for me?” When she turned on the light, she wished she’d kept living in the darkness. She read aloud:

**I was wrong the whole time. The machine was meant to create knowledge but it is too powerful. I was deceived, and now it is too late. The device, if fully operational, could tear our universe apart! It must not fall into the wrong hands. If the clock ever reaches zero, our universe is doomed!**

Soos pointed at the clock. 1 minute 30 seconds. “It’s the final countdown. Just like they always sung about!”

The blacklight slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. “The government guys were right. I-I have to shut it down!” Mabel jumped off the chair and rushed through the door to the Portal room. Soos was yelling her name, telling her to stop that it was too dangerous for her to get close. She didn’t want to listen to him. There had to be something. Something that could turn it off before it was too late. Dipper stood behind her, shaking his head in horror. _“Oh my gosh. Alright. I can do this.”_ He stared at the Portal, just how bright it was. How small he felt next to it. _“I don’t have a choice.”_ He ran towards the Portal, phasing through the wall.

_“Dipper!”_

He turned around as Modoc approached, eyes sunken in like hard hard lead and frown like sharp arrows. “ _Modoc, what are you doing here? I thought you had a policy against entering people’s homes.”_

 _“Not when you are throwing yourself directly into danger.”_ Modoc pointed at the ground sternly, like an angered parent. _“Come with me. Now, boy.”_

He faced his mentor, unable to hide the fear in his eyes but still standing tall. _“No, I can’t. You said it yourself. Bill wants to use this thing to get into our world. I have to stop him!”_

 _“Do you know what he will do to you if you try?”_ Dipper could only imagine. At least the last time Bill came to torment him, he was able to die. Able to end it. Now he was immortal, unable to die again. The torture could go on and on for eternity.

But it was still better that the torment of knowing everyone he loved could die, and it would be because of him. Bill already cursed him to the most wretched existence he could think of. _“Let him do his worst to me. He’s already done it.”_

“Mabel!” Stan ran into the portal room, gasping for breath. “Mabel, get out of there!" 

“No!” she screamed. “The Journal says this thing is dangerous! I have to turn it off before it’s too late!”

He stepped forward, keeping one eye on her and one eye on the countdown clock. “Get outta there, Mabel. You'll get hurt.” His watch beeped and flashed, and his eyes went wide. “Oh no. Brace yourselves!”

The portal screeched and whirled, sending its pulses of blue light into the room. It opened itself up, revealing a galaxy inside. And all at once gravity reversed itself. Mabel, Stan, and Soos were  tossed into the air, floating aimlessly. Mabel grabbed at some of the wires and tugged herself down to the lever in the center of the room. Her hair flew into her face. Her hands turned red as she gripped against the pulse of the machine. “Grunkle Stan!”

“Mabel!” He pushed himself towards her, but was knocked away by the debris.

Dipper felt himself lift off the ground too, but not by choice. The anti-gravity was affecting him too. Of course it was. It was a gateway to other dimensions. He was in another dimension. Nothing could be easy. He scrambled and grasped, though there was nothing he could grab onto. “ _M_ _odoc!”_ He screamed, trying to thrash against the pull of the Portal, sucking him in closer and closer. Modoc floated off in the opposite direction, trying with all his force to get to Dipper but unable to break the push and pull of the Portal.

Mabel wrapped her whole body around a lever in the center of the room. The thing she was most excited for was now so terrifying. A punched hole in the universe, trying to swallow her. She gripped harder to to pole. “Grunkle Stan! It’s going to destroy everything!”

“You gotta believe me. We’re doing this for Ford, it worked once before and it can work again. Everything will be okay!” he shouted.

“But what if it's not?” She sniffed, the tears bubbling up from her eyes and floating off her face. “What if something goes wrong? What if those agents are right and it destroys everything?” Everything. Gravity Falls. The Portal. The constant eating loneliness. All her hope. What if it was all for nothing? "What if I go through all of this and I never see Dipper again!" 

Stan yelled out to her over the scream of the Portal, voice strained and gravelly. “Everything I’ve worked for, everything, I care about, it's all for this family.” He paused. “Look into my eyes, Mabel. Do you really think I’m a bad guy? Do you think I would intentionally do anything that might hurt you. You’re the most important thing to me. And we're both gonna see our bother's again." It felt like everyone in her family had the same brown eyes. In in his eyes, she saw Dipper. She saw her last chance at redemption. She didn’t listen to him when he needed her most. She had to listen to Stan. "You gotta trust me!" 

The countdown timer was on its final seconds, each ticking second like a needle in her ears.

She nodded, closing her eyes, too afraid to see what would happen next. She gripped to the pole, wishing she were holding to him instead. “Grunkle Stan, I trust you!”

The machine shrieked again, pulling Dipper further into its grasp. “ _Modoc! Help me!”_

 _“Dipper, hang on!”_ Modoc could try as hard as he wanted to, but not having a physical body meant neither of them could hang on to anything.

00:00:00

When the portal flashed a white light, Dipper knew it was over. He could see Mabel, hanging on with all of her strength. She was doing all of this for him. And to think, he was about to be sucked into the thing that she thought would save him. _“No! Mabel!”_

The Portal swallowed him.

Everything had settled, Mabel, Stan, and Soos all collapsed on the floor. The Portal hung, its pieces smashed and falling apart.Mabel struggled to her knees, watching as a man in all black, gun strapped to his back, stepped through the liquid blue haze. The real Stanford Pines looked over his shoulder, as if he heard a noise. As if he saw something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think "There aren't even four hundred hours in a day" is one of the funniest jokes I have ever written.   
> Originally, I had the scene where Stan is being interrogated completely written. It involved the government agents trying to uncover the "true nature" of Dipper's death and relate it to Stan in some way and prove that he's dangerous. Of course, Stan doesn't fall for it, but instead has an emotional moment explaining that the agents that he would never do anything to harm his niece or nephew, including building a doomsday device.   
> However, this was cut for "time" and because I wanted to stay consistently in Mabel's plot line. Maybe I'll come back to the idea.


	11. A Tale of Two Stans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuck down in the basement, Mabel gets to know Grunkle Ford--but learns he has a history will Bill Cipher. Dipper is tossed into the Nightmare Realm by the Portal, and Bill is delighted to see him. But its not the only dimension he winds up in.

Mabel staggered to her feet, coughing on dust and dirt. Her head pounded, eyes unable to adjust to the shift in the light. There was a swell of relief as she surveyed her surroundings. The Portal lay in shambles, the light fading from it’s core. And the universe was still there. She let all of her breath go at once. It was over. The man in all black before her pulled off his goggles, revealing a face so similar to Stan’s but yet so different. Like he was hardened in a different way.

Stan approached his brother, arms out and a grin spread across his face. “Finally! After all these long years of waiting, you’re actually here! Brother!” Ford punched him in the face. “Oh! Ow!” Stan rubbed at his jaw. “What the heck was that for?”

“This was an insanely risky move: restarting the Portal! Didn't you read my warnings?” Ford shouted. Wait. Mabel raised one eyebrow in confusion. What was going on? She thought the danger was over when the portal shut down, right? Wasn't everything fine now? 

Stan shrugged it off. “Warnings, schmarnings. How's about maybe a thanks for saving you from what appears to be, I don't know, some kind of sci-fi side burn dimension?”

“Thank you? You really think I'm gonna thank you after what you did 30 years ago?”

“What I did? Why, you ungrateful…” Stan swung a punch, but Ford ducked and grabbed him from behind. Geez, Stan was right. They really didn’t get along. You’d think they’d be happy to see each other. But instead they yelled more as Great Uncle Ford slammed Stan into the ground.

“Woah!” Mabel slid herself between them, pulling at Ford’s arms to try to make him set Stan free. “Let’s break it up here!”

When Ford looked at her, he immediately let go. “Stan, you didn’t tell me there was a child here?” Then he looked over his shoulder at Soos, “And some sort of large, hairless gopher?”

Soos chuckled. “I get that a lot.”

Stan stood up, rubbing at his arms and back. “She’s your family, Poindexter. Shermie’s grandkid.”

Ford smiled to himself, “I have a niece?” Then he bent down onto one knee to look at her. And Mabel felt her heart swell. He had those same brown eyes, just like Stan. Like Dipper. Like her. That same kind of goofy smile. He had "Pines family" written all over his face. He held out one hand to her. “Greetings. Do kids still say ‘greetings’? I haven’t been in this dimension for a really long time.” And six fingers. Just like the golden hand on the Journals.

She shook it. His palm was warm and his skin was calloused. But there was a swell of excitement to finally meet him. After all the work and all the talk. He was… real. This wasn’t her imagination. “Wow a six fingered handshake. It's a full finger friendlier than normal!”

His laugh sounded a little like her Dad's. “I like her. She's weird.”

“And I like you too! Grunkle Stan told me so much about you!” She threw herself at him in full hug mode. She couldn’t resist. His clothes smelt funny, almost like drain cleaner or the freezer aisle in a grocery story. This was the only good thing to happen to her in a long time.  

Ford gave her a hesitant pat on the back while his smiled turned into a glare. “Oh did he?”

“Yeah,” she pulled out of the hug, “but only the stuff about how you wrote the Journals and a whole bunch of other words I'm not supposed to repeat.”

“You read my Journals?”

“Yup! All of them. Okay, well, I mostly looked at the pictures.”

He cleared his throat and stood up. “Listen, there'll be time for introductions later. But first, tell me, Stan: are there any security breaches? Does anyone else know about this portal?”

“No, just us.” He crossed his arms defiantly. “And maybe the entire U.S. government.”

“The what!” Ford looked over at one of the security cameras and sighed, trying to keep himself calm. “Okay. It's alright. We've got a while before they find this room. We just need to lay low and think of a plan.”

“Well, it looks like we're stuck down here for a while.” Mabel rolled on the back of her heels and clasped her hands together. “Who wants to tell me their entire mysterious backstory?”

Ford pulled out his first Journal and scribbled something down in it, “Yes, I have some questions about this myself, Stanley.”

“Oh. I was talking about you, but yeah. I’m okay hearing about Stan’s hobo days again.” She sat down on one of the collapsed pieces of metal. “Story time. Both of you.”

Soos sat down beside her. “I hope this aligns with my fanfiction, Stan.”

Stan groaned, “Fine…” and then he began.

 

\--------

 

Dipper felt himself get knocked back, tumbling over as the Portal consumed him. When he opened his eyes, he found himself swimming in a sea of lightning and swirling colors. At first he mistook it for beautiful. The anti-gravity all around him, asteroids bouncing across the space. The air had a touch, a feeling of something foamy and ever-shifting. But instead, what he found was a living nightmare.

He steadied himself, and before he had a moment to panic or question what was going on, he found himself hovering before a pulsing thing. A great black something with arteries extending from it, leeching off of whatever it touched. The air smelled like burning hair. And before him, surrounded but a kaleidoscope of optical illusions and changing colors, was Bill. Shadowy and horrific beasts came to flank at both his sides. Dipper wished he had a moment to scream.

Bill leaned forward, “THE GAME JUST GOT MORE INTERESTING.” His voice shrieking against the surrounding nothing, echoing through infinity. “MY OLD PUPPET CAME FOR A VISIT.”

Dipper reeled back, knocking into an asteroid. “B-Bill.”

“YOU BET IT IS, PINE TREE. HOW HAS THE MINDSCAPE BEEN TREATING YOU?” He couldn’t bring himself to speak, to say anything further. The fear was… paralyzing. Completely consuming. He thought he could handle it. He thought he could fight Bill for just a little while. But not like this. This was… this was beyond comprehension. “SPEECHLESS, I SEE. YOU DON’T HAVE TO THANK ME. IT WAS FUN! THE SOUND OF CRUNCHING BONES AND THE WARMTH OF BLOOD.”

“N-no,” he stammered, trying not to think about it. Trying not to remember. That’s what Bill wanted. Bill wanted him to feel afraid. And he was. He had never been more afraid.

Bill leaned back in his throne. “YEESH, RELAX. YOU’RE SO EDGY YOU’RE MAKING ME LOOK LIKE A CIRCLE.”

Dipper weighed his options. Either stay and subject himself to Bill’s torment, or try to escape, get captured, and then be subjected to Bill’s torment. They were both equally terrible options. So he decided to try escaping. He had no idea where to go or there even was an end to wherever he was. He took off with as much speed as he could muster, hoping that for once his training with Modoc would actually pay off. But the zero gravity make him falter and sway in directions he did not want to go.

“YOU CAN’T ESCAPE ME. EVERYTHING IS GOING JUST ACCORDING TO PLAN. THINGS CHANGE, AND YOU’LL BE GETTING A FRONT ROW SEAT TO THE CHAOS.” Bill laughed and then leaned back in a throne that appeared out of nowhere, made of optical illusions so confusing Dipper couldn’t make out any kind of shape or depth to it. Bill looked at one of the beasts beside him out of the corner of his eye. “GET HIM.”

The thing that came forward was 60 foot tall ball of finger and teeth. It howled and then charged at Dipper, going faster than he thought a thing without any eyes or feet could go. Dipper dodged around asteroids, constantly looking over his shoulder at the monstrosity that chased him and Bill, looking ever so amused. He willed himself to go faster, anything to escape. But there were no exists, only places where the colors seemed to blur and sink down into themselves. This place went on forever.

The creature howled again, fingers just able to scratch at his feet. So this was it. This really was as bad as it could get. This was how he was going to spend eternity. And just as the monster was about to latch onto him, Dipper felt himself smack against an asteroid. It pelted him across the empty space like a pinball machine. He spun completely out of control, getting one last look at Bill, before falling into a wormhole.

Bill didn’t move. Instead he tapped his fingers against the arm of his throne, knowing exactly where Dipper had gone, and laughed. “WELL, WELL, WELL. RAISING THE STAKES, ARE WE, PINE TREE? GO AHEAD. MAKE YOUR MOVE. I’VE ALREADY MADE MINE.”  

 

\--------

“I knew I would have to record my findings. I began to keep a Journal,” Ford said, pacing as he dictated each word to the wide eyed girl before him.

“Haha!” Mabel had scooped up the remains of Journal 3. It was in worse condition than before. It's cover was falling off, and was down to its bare bones. The pages were crushed in on each other. But there six fingered hand was still glossy and reflective. She could see her own face in it. She looked over at Stan, “Oh man. Dipper would be so excited. He'd probably throw up.” It was nice to think about him, and not feel sick to her stomach. To remember how he looked at the Journal, how late at night he would stay up. That bright look of wonder in his eyes.

Stan laughed and nudged her arm with his elbow. “He'd start doing that high pitched, girly scream.”

“You mean like ‘Ahhhhhh the Journals’!” She mimicked the sound best she could until it hurt her throat and ears. 

“Haha! That's the one!”

“Aww, dude. If only he were here,” Soos chimed in.

“Wait,” Ford said, stepping up to them. “Who's Dipper?”

Mabel smile faded away. That's right. She had to explain herself. “Oh, uhm…”

“He was,” Stan rubbed at the back of his neck. And Mabel hated that word. _Was_. Like he stopped existing. Though she supposed that in some ways, he had. “He was Mabel's twin brother. He passed away a couple of weeks ago.”

Ford’s face when blank and pale. “Twin?”

“Yeah.” She rubbed at her arm and looked away.

“I'm very sorry to hear that.”  

“Well, that's something I need to ask you about.” Mabel fumbled through the Journal, careful of its decaying pages. Then she found it. Taped to the page with crumpled grief. **Note to self:** She held the Journal up for him to see. “What do you know about Bill Cipher?”

“Wha-" Ford stuttered. "You know him?”

“He's the guy who killed my brother. He possessed Dipper, tried to burn the Journal, and then killed him."

Ford took the Journal in his hands. And as he read his eyes grew wide. All the color was gone from him. Like he had seen a ghost. Mabel recognized that look in herself. And he mumbled to himself, “What have I done?”

“What do you mean?” Mabel asked, watching Stan stand up out of the corner of her eye. “How do you know Bill?”

“He's back. Bill came back. And now he's targeting children.” He muttered to himself. “What have I done?”

Stan gripped Ford by the collar, and pulled him down. “What did you do?”

“Stanley, allow me to explain myself.”

“Fine.” Stan released his brother and shoved him back.

Ford nodded and tried to keep a stern confident face. But Mabel could see him tremble. “Bill wasn’t always my enemy. I thought he was my friend. My muse. You see, I had hit a roadblock in my research...”

 

\--------

 

There was a burst of light. Dipper spiraled into the next dimension, and as scared as he should have been, knowing he was getting farther away from home, he was relieved to be farther away from Bill. When he came to a stop, he realized just how different this new place was. It looked like Bill’s nightmare realm, but softer. Everything looked like it was made of clouds and mist and stars. The background had no end but it pulsed with soft pastels and light. And the air, it didn’t have a smell. It was just clean. “What happened… This is so weird.” He was already very tired of the wormholes and interdimensional travel. Above him, a giant pinkish creature caught somewhere between a lizard and a fish. “Ah! Oh my gosh!”

  
The thing smiled at him. Well, it’s mouth didn’t move, but he knew it was smiling at him. “Hello. I am the Axolotl, and this is the space between time and space. But enough about me. Please sit down. I have a very nice bean bag chair.”

He floated back, hesitant of the being before him. “I-I.” When Dipper turned his head a bean bag chair had materialized beside him. It didn’t float on the air like he or the Axolotl did. But instead it gave the illusion of the ground, that this place has some sense of the laws of physics. He looked at it nervously, and then at the Axolotl.

The Axolotl cocked his head, fins flapping against the air. “Please, sit. You seem to be in distress.”

Distress was an understatement. He was horrified. He had just been tossed around into a whole new set of dimensions. The Axolotl looked at him eagerly, tilting its head towards the bean bag chair.

“O-okay?” He sat down. It was a very nice bean bag chair. It was infinitely comfortable. He had almost forgotten what it was like to be able to interact with a physical world. The things he had taken for granted. How nice it was to sit down and tilt his head back knowing something would be there. He wished he could sleep, just so that he could curl up in this beanbag chair and doze off. 

  
“Since you have found me you can ask one question. Don’t waste it.”

  
One question.

  
Dipper had at least 20.  Why is there a giant floating axolotl in space? Has this all been a terrible dream? Who is Bill Cipher? How do you defeat him? Is it possible for him to get back home? What did Bill mean when he said everything was going to change? Was his family in danger? Was it even possible to defeat Bill? He opened his mouth and then bit his tongue. He only had one question. It had to be the right one.

  
He decided to waste it on trivial things.

  
“Is there a way for me to come back to life? Please. I know it's selfish. But I just want to go home.”

  
The Axolotl seemed to ponder this, and then his eyes glowed a pale, off-white:

All bad things come in threes  
And watches from within the trees  
As Cipher’s plans begin to form  
Beware the calm before the storm  
Two worlds will forcibly blend    
All things eventually end  
And when there is nothing left to burn  
Invoke my name and all will return

  
“What does that mean?” His fingers dug into the beanbag chair. 

“You asked your question. But it was my pleasure to meet you uhm...” he paused.

  
“My name is Dipper.”

  
“No, it isn’t,” the Axolotl gave a knowing grin. “No matter though, you won’t remember any of this. I’ll send you back now.”

“What?”

  
Something bright and white filled his eyes. And then nothing.

 

\-------

 

Ford finished speaking, and allowed himself a moment to stop pacing. Mabel didn’t know what to say. It was like all of her words got trapped somewhere in her brain. All this time she thought Great Uncle Ford was the guy who could help her stop Bill. And he ended up being the guy who let Bill get into the world in the first place. He’s the reason Dipper got so obsessed with the Journal. And the reason Bill decided to target them.

She sighed, blowing the hair out of her eyes. “Oh man.”

Ford nodded, “Oh man indeed.”

“But that means you know Bill and Gravity Falls better than anyone. You understand how it all works. Right?”

He perked up. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

“So you can help me?”

Stan cut her off, “That’s enough, Mabel. Now isn’t the time for this.” The light reflected off of his glasses, obscuring his eyes.

“No,” Ford knelt down in front of her. “What is it?”

“I want to bring Dipper back.” The air around her felt still when she said it. “He’s not completely gone. He’s stuck in the mindscape. I've made contact with him once, he's there, and I need someone who can help me get him out.” Her lungs felt so heavy when she spoke. “At least long enough for me to say goodbye this time. There’s got to be a way.”

The portal shrieked to life behind them, it’s hollow and dead center suddenly filled with a bright white light. She recoiled at the sound, the scream it seemed to make, bracing herself for the next anti-gravity wave. But nothing happened. She looked over her shoulder, the portal looked dead again. “What was that?”

Stan shrugged, “Who knows?”

Dipper shot out from it, unable to control his speed or direction. He just kept his eyes closed and his arms in front of his face, preparing for whatever dimension he entered next. He tossed violently through the air, until slowing to a stop. He peeked his eyes open, familiarizing himself with the gray concrete walls of the Mystery Shack’s hidden basement. _“Oh my God…”_ he whispered. _“How… what?”_ He closed his eyes and focused on his artificial breathing, not that it would do him any good.

 _“Dipper!”_ Modoc plucked him out of the air. _“Oh you’re alright. I thought you were gone forever.”_ Dipper didn’t open his eyes. He just kept on with his fake breathing, going through the motions but never feeling any air enter his chest. _“What happened? Did the portal take you somewhere?”_

He nodded and answered slowly, syllable by syllable. _“I saw Bill. I went to his dimension. He’s planning something! It was awful. I-- I should have listened to you. I can’t fight him off. I can’t.”_

 _“Shhh. Do not panic.”_ Modoc took Dipper by both shoulders. _“Look at me.”_ He hesitantly opened his eyes. His mentor kept a serious face, but it was the first time Dipper had seen him look softened by something. He looked worried and relieved all at once. _“You’re back. You’re safe here with me. Can you tell me how you escaped? How did you get back to this dimension?”_

Dipper was certain that he knew. But when he went to retrieve the memory, it was gone. A hollow gap. Like it had been scooped out of his thoughts with a spoon.  _“I don’t remember.”_

_“You don’t?”_

_“No. I remember I was trying to run from Bill when I got hit by an asteroid and then everything just blanks out after that. Something must have happened but I can’t remember it.”_

_“That’s alright. Whatever you saw was already too much. I’m just happy you are okay.”_

And then Dipper did something he never thought he would do. He hugged Modoc. He couldn’t help it. He was terrified. Modoc was the only comfort he had. And it was nice to have someone hug him back. Never before had Dipper felt small. But in the shadow of the portal, with Modoc rubbing one hand on his back and "shhh"ing into his ear, he felt completely miniscule. 

He could hear the government agents talking upstairs in muffled voices, as Mabel held up the memory eraser ray to… who was that? Wait was it really? The Author of the Journals. Off all the things he had to miss, it was meeting the Author?  

Ford took the memory eraser from her. “Of course! I don't know how you got a hold of one of these but, this is perfect!” He rushed into the room opposite the portal and hooked the ray up to various wires. “If I can just amplify the signal to a radio headset frequency... There. Now everyone plug your ears. Get down. Now!” A sound wave ripped across the Shack, sending the government agents into a confused frenzy.

Dipper knew he should have felt some relief. The portal was closed. The government agents were having all their memories wiped away. And he was back safely in the mindscape. But that couldn't stop the hollow tug in his gut, sensation without a body. Bill was coming. This was just the calm before the storm. An eerie stillness that waited inside of his chest. And he could almost remember.

All things eventually end... 

\------

 

As the agents drove off, thanks to Ford’s quick thinking and serviceable acting skills, Mabel approached him on the porch of the now slightly dishevelled Mystery Shack. She swayed back on her feet, “So Grunkle Ford… about my offer of raising the dead?”

“Uhm. Well…”

“Alright,” Stan gripped Mabel by the back of her sweater. “It's been a long day and me and my brother have a lot to talk about. Why don't you hit the hay, huh?”

"But, it's Ford and you said he could help! Come on, please!"

“I said, hit the hay.” He pushed her forward towards the door.

She groaned, “Fine. But can I at least have the Journal back? I have a lot of things I need to add to it before I forget them.” She smiled at Ford with her biggest, brownest doe eyes.

“You’ve been writing in it?” He opened it up, charred remains crumbling onto his six fingers as he flipped through the pages. Black ink turning to blue to a rainbow of colors before his eyes.

“Dipper was the one who started taking notes. I decided to keep doing it for him--writing to him. It helps." She wove her fingers through the strands of her hair. "And Dipper likes it too. Even though we can't talk, it feels like I'm communicating with him in some way." 

“I see.” He furred his brow and continued to look at the pages. “Well thank you for taking notes, but this isn't a diary. Thisresearch is very important and I should--” he stopped to stare at the writing at the bottom of each glitter pen page. **Wish you were here.** He sighed, a deep grievance, and held it back out to her. “Here. It’s yours. We can write in it together.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Now go to bed.”

She tucked the Journal in her arms and bounded through the Shack, calling out over her shoulder. “Goodnight!”

 

\------

Stan and Ford looked at themselves in the mirror. Stan had nearly forgotten was it was like to stand next to his twin brother and how alike they looked. When they were teenagers they would even switch places every now and then, just to mess with people. He actually did a very good impression of his brother. “Look at us. When did we become old men?” he commented.

“You look like Dad.”

“Ugh, uck, don't say that.” How nice was it to laugh with his brother again. Maybe he shouldn’t be so hard on Mabel. Of course she wanted Dipper back, they all did. He spent 30 years fighting to get his own brother back. But who knew what she was getting into trying to raise the dead? The zombies they had to fight were already bad enough. He couldn’t let his nephew turn into something like that.

Ford sighed, drawing Stan out of his thoughts. “Okay, Stanley, here's the deal. You can stay here the rest of the summer to watch Mabel. I'll stay down in the basement and try to contain any remaining damage. But when the summer's over, you give me my house back, you give me my name back, and this Mystery Shack junk is over forever. You got it?”

“You really aren't gonna thank me, are you?” He paused for a beat. Ford said nothing. “Fine. On one condition: you stay away from Mabel; I don't want her in danger. I already lost one of the kids to your carelessness. I’m not losing her too. Cause as far as I'm concerned, she’s the only family I have left.” He turned around and walked up the stairs, certain that he wasn’t going to look back, but of course he did.

“Stanley, you know I did what I could to keep my mistakes from hurting anyone else. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I would have done anything to prevent it if I knew." 

“Well, lots of people did get hurt. My nephew is dead. And that’s on you.” He kept walking up the stairs, this time not looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of this was an excuse to include the Axolotl and make a spooky rhyme.


	12. The Duck-tective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel decides to bring Stan and Ford together by having them watch the Duck-tective season finale with her. But when things get out of hand when Ford brings his infinity-sided die into the mix.

Mabel munched on the last of her Cheese Boodles, yellow cheese dust smeared across her face. Stan leaned back, newspaper in hand. The Mystery Shack had been “closed for repairs” which was to say that she and Stan were trying to (yet again) adapt to a change in their home life. Mabel blew the empty bag off of her face. “I just ate a bag of Cheese Boodles without using my hands. Lazy Tuesday, you are delivering in a big way!”

“Heh. Yeah,” Stan laughed. “It's nice to finally have a day where nothing interesting happens whatsoever.”

The hidden door in the vending machine burst open. “Get down! Don't let it taste human flesh!” Ford ran into the gift shop, a strange green octopus with one eye wrapped around his wrist. Mabel of course did not get down. He punched the creature, causing it to drop to the floor and skittered across the floor and onto the cashier’s counter.

Mabel smiled, watching as it clawed its way around with its tentacles. “Aww. Can we keep it?”

Stan slapped at it with his rolled up newspaper. “Ah! Kill it! Kill it!” Okay, maybe they shouldn’t keep the Cycloptopus. But it was just so squishy!

The creature hid within the boxes of merchandise and roofing tiles, backing itself against the wall. Ford eased up to it, extending his hands, revealing off a snazzy pair of six-fingered gloves that sparked at the fingertips. “Patience,” he muttered to himself. “And…” the creature’s one eye transformed into a mouth, filled with needle teeth and screeching. Okay it was definitely less squishy now! “Gotcha!” Ford lunged at it, grasping it and both hands and frying it with his gloves. Then the held it up, smiling like a proud golden retriever that had just presented its kill.

“Great. Now get it outta here. It smells like if death could barf,” Stan plugged his nose and grumbled.

“Wait!” Mabel shouted and ran up to Ford before he could disappear again. “I want to help! You promised we could write in the Journal together. And you know I’ve barely seen you since you got here. How about some good old fashioned uncle/niece bonding?”

Ford looked at Stan and sighed. “I’m sorry, Mabel, but the dark, weird road I travel, I’m afraid you cannot follow.” She frowned. Now Ford was pushing her away too. What did everyone have against her having a little fun? “Whelp! Call me for dinner.” He pressed a button on his watch, making the vending machine close behind him.

Mabel looked down at her shoes. Ford seemed so happy to see her at first? Why all the fuss now? She thought he liked her. “Maybe next time then? Or not? Or never.”

“Eh let him go, Mabel.” Stan put a hand on her shoulder. “My brother is a dangerous know-it-all and the stuff he’s dealing with is even worse. Do yourself a favor and stay away from him, you hear me?”

“Yeah, except that you spent the past three weeks building him up to me. You said he would like me and help me. Now he lives in our basement, and I can’t even say hi!”

“Don’t worry about what’s in the basement. You belong up here with me and,” he nudged her with his elbow. “The season finale of Duck-tective is airing this Friday! That’s our show, isn’t it?”

She forced a smile. “Yeah. That’s all the mystery I’ll need this week. I’m gonna have the most normal week of my life!”

But of course, is anything normal in Gravity Falls?

 

\------

 

“Dear Mom and Dad,” Mabel read aloud as she wrote, the TV blaring in front of her. “It’s been about 3 weeks since I saw you and so much has happened! Just yesterday gravity reversed itself, almost destroying the universe and totally wrecking the town. But the coolest part was when Grunkle Stan’s twin brother came out of this portal we have in the basement. And now I have 2 grunkles for the price of one. And they are adorable together.” Or at least they were when they would stand side by side for longer than 10 seconds. They thought she wouldn’t notice, but it was pretty obvious they still couldn’t get along. Even for her sake. They couldn’t even pretend. And what went from dinner time with Stan and Soos, full of stories and jokes, became long awkward moments sitting in between her great uncles. She looked down, not realizing she had continued to write at the bottom of the letter. **Wish you were here.**

“Auuugh!” She screamed and crumpled up the letter, tossing it across the room. Of course she didn’t want to write home. There was only one person worth talking to and he was most likely a ghost. She grabbed Journal 3 off the arm of the sofa, where Waddles was snuggled up into a ball. She stared at herself in what remained of the charred, golden, six fingered hand. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Dipper. I want us all to be a family again, but I can do that unless I can get Stan and Ford to get along. Like, they used to be best friends but then they got all stupid.” She propped the Journal onto her knees and thought. There had to be a way to get them in a room together. Get them talking. Or at least realizing how irresistibly cute she was.

Soos walked in. “Sup, Mabel?”

“Hey, Soos.”

“You’re looking really think-y over there. It’s kinda weirding me out. You usually don’t think this hard.”

“Usually my problems aren’t this hard. I need to find a way to make Stan and Ford friends again.”

“I don't know, dude. The Stan-twins are in pretty deep. Getting them to like each other is a mystery even Duck-tective couldn't solve.”

“Wait! That's it.” Mabel crawled over to the tv and produced the stack of Duck-tective recordings on VHS--how Stan put each episode on one of those black boxes was a miracle. Though she would have prefered to watch the show on DVD.  “Ford can watch the show with us. We all need something we can do as a family! And then they will realize how much they love each other and hug it out!” She piled the VHS tapes into her arms, tucked her limited edition Duck-tective plushie under her arm, and ran for the gift shop. “Thanks, Soos!”

He stood there by himself for a moment. “Well, time to go FCLORP.”

 

\------

 

“Open up! Don’t you dare lock me out!” Mabel slammed her hand on the outside of the vending machine. When she went to type in the password, the door didn’t budge. Ford had changed it. “Open up, Great Uncle Ford!” She pulled on the machine, as if to pry it from the wall. “It’s time for you to bond with your favorite niece.” When the door didn’t budge she slipped to the ground, gasping for breath. “You win this round, vending machine.”

Flopping to her back, Mabel laid herself out on the floor. There had to be another way into the basement. She tossed an arm over her face, covering her eyes. But what other way was there? Stan kept the basement well hidden for 30 years.

Something snorted in her ear. Looking over, Waddles oinked at her, and chewed on the hem of her sweater sleeve. “What is it?” He squealed and grabbed onto her plushie and ran out the front door. “Hey! Give that back.” She grabbed a few of the VHS tapes and chased after her pet pig.

Making it to the front of the house, Waddles dropped the plushie, letting it roll under the front porch. Mabel groaned, setting the tapes down on the ground and dropping to her knees. “What’d you do that for, Waddles?” He oinked again as she crawled army style under the house. It was dark and smelt like mold and mildew under the house, and as she crawled dirt caked into her elbows and on the front of her clothes. She reached out for the toy.

But when she did she felt the earth crack, the foundation of the house collapsing beneath her. She fell, smashing against a table and then tumbling onto the cold floor. The jar that contained the cycloptopus shattered on the ground, allowing the creature to escape. Some of her VHS tapes clattered through the hole in the ceiling. The air swelled with dirt, burning her eyes and lungs. She stood up, looking around the darkness off the basement. It was eerily silent.

She reached for her plushie, the cycloptopus hiding behind it. “Mabel, stop!” She turned around, Ford standing behind her.

“Grunkle Ford!”

“What did I say about coming down here? My work is far too dangerous for a single living soul to spend even one second in its presence! You could get seriously hurt. I,” he paused. “How did you get down here?”

“I fell through the ceiling.” She gripped her plushie close. “I wanted to ask you to come watch Duck-tective with me. I mean, you haven’t seen any of it so we’d have to start from the beginning. But if we hurry, we can finish it before Friday!”

“I’m not really geared up to watch a kids’ show.”

“It’s not a kids’ show! It’s got a really good plot, and Grunkle Stan said that it has a lot of humor that goes over my head… whatever that means.”

“I’m sorry, but now is not the time. I have some very serious work to do.”

She sighed, “Okay. It’s just that you promised we could write in the Journal together and I haven’t seen you in days. I barely know you. But I’ll just go now.” She walked off, towards the door.

“Wait,” Ford said. He looked over his shoulder, brow furring with concern. “I guess I could use a break. But just a short one, alright?” The cycloptopus grabbed onto Ford’s face, and he pulled it off in one swift motion, revealing the red welts left behind on his face. “That’s going to leave a mark.”

 

\-----

It was not a short break at all.

Mabel sat in Stan’s chair, brown doe eyes so big and wide. She kicked her feet up and down as Ford slid in the 16th VHS tape of Duck-tective, he may have gotten a little carried away in trying to please her. As much as Stanley’s anger had crushed him, Ford realized he couldn’t possibly ignore his great niece. He had to show her a sign of goodwill. He didn’t actually care for the show. It was fine, but he prefered the classic science-fiction shows from his childhood.

He looked over his shoulder at Mabel, who was grinning absent-mindedly into space, clutching her toy. She was a peculiar child, much like himself in many ways. Weird for sure. And very much unlike himself as well. When he tested her for post-portal radiation, she coughed up glitter. She wore a different knit sweater every day and a very strange hat. That hat… where had he seen that symbol before.

Then he remembered the picture on the desk, the one Stanley had left there--when he spent 30 years fiddling with the portal like it was some toy. Ford was going to remove it until he realized it was of Mabel, and a boy--her brother. And he was wearing that same hat.

He stopped, pulling back the VHS tape before the black box could swallow it whole. “Mabel… if you don’t mind, may I ask you about your brother. What was he like?”

“Oh uhm,” she bit her lip. She hadn’t thought about Dipper in the past tense yet. She never had to explain him to anyone. Not even during his life did someone ask what he was like. He and Mabel were always together. There was never any question. He was just… Dipper. “He was… obsessed. With you. He found your Journal in the woods and ever since then he was addicted. He always loved this kind of stuff, mysteries and magic. He really wanted to find you and meet you. It was his goal.”

Ford chuckled, “I’m flattered.” He would be lying if he said that wasn’t what he wanted. Yes, it was his goal to be in science textbooks, to receive grants and prizes, and become an immortalized genius. But in truth, to inspire young minds was the true goal. He wanted to be someone’s Einstein. Someone’s Tesla. However, it seemed that he was responsible for the death only young mind that ever looked up to him. He shook his head. “What else?”

Mabel frowned, tugging at the sleeves of her sweater. “He was really smart. He could have skipped a grade or even two, but he wanted to stay in school with me. He was never any good at making friends, so I guess he would have been lonely without me. But he was a massive dork-- he liked all these old movies, and books, and he constantly played this dice rolling game all by himself. Though I think it was supposed to have at least two players. It had all this magic and wizards and stuff. I was never interested.”

“Might that game have been _Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons_?”

“Yeah, I think it was!”

Ford grinned. “Dipper and I would have made fine friends. That is my favorite game in the whole multiverse! During my travels I tried to find a dimension that played it. There were some similar games, but nothing beats the original.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes, I actually visited a dimension where you gambled for everything. I actually picked myself up a little treat when I was there,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a black box. Opening it, he revealed a small, multi-faced thing, lustering like gemstones in shades of blue and purple. But its faces changed, different symbols she couldn’t even begin to understand. “This is an infinity-sided die. These things are outlawed in 9,000 dimensions. You wanna know why? Look at those symbols. Infinite sides means infinite outcomes. If you roll it, anything could happen. Our faces could melt into jelly. The world could turn into an egg. Or you could just roll an 8. Who knows? That’s why I have to keep it in this protective, cheap plastic case.”

“Woah.” It’s light reflected into Mabel’s eyes. “Can I roll it?”

He slammed the case shut and tucked it back into his pocket. “Absolutely not. This is a very dangerous item. It’s not for playing. Now come on, let’s get back to your show.”

 

\------

 

A few days passed like that. When the day of the finale came, Mabel couldn’t be more excited. Not only was her favorite show coming on, but it was finally the day that she would get her grunkles to get along. Her perfect family was just moments away from happening. She even decided to knit a sweater for the occasion.

Stan came down the stairs, wearing a suit of all things! The whole nine yards with a bow tie and everything. “Hey-hey, look at you! Someone’s all dressed up.”

Stan brushed some lint off his sleeve. “It’s a big night.” Then he took off his fez, a sign of respect, and Mabel did the same. “I think we all remember where we were when we learned Duck-tective was shot.” His watch beeped, the pre-set alarm they had set the night before.

“It’s time!” Mabel ran into the living room, where Ford was waiting cross-legged on the floor. She leapt onto the chair and grabbed her Duck-tective toy, pressing down making the squeaker inside shriek.

Stan came up behind her. “Ford? What are you doing out of the basement?”

He shrugged. “Mabel asked me to join you today, and made me watch over 30 episodes of whatever this is… I’m still not entirely sure.”

“I thought I told you to stay away from her.”

“What am I supposed to do, Stanley? She’s my niece, I can’t just ignore her.” Ford rose to his feet, jabbing at Stan with one finger.

“You’re darn right you’re supposed to ignore her. I’m not losing her too! Not again!”

“You were the one put in charge of the boy. You were careless for not looking after him. Maybe he would still be alive if you had paid more attention to him!” Ford pressed both his hands against Stan’s shoulders and pushed him backwards. The air in the room felt hot and dry with violence. 

Stan stepped towards Ford, fingers curling into tight fists. Mabel leapt off the chair and threw herself between them. She held her arms out, trying to keep them from getting any closer to each other. This was all wrong. This wasn't supposed to happen. “Stop it! You’re supposed to be getting along!” But they didn’t seem to care that she was there. And couldn't they just leave Dipper out of it? Why did everyone have to keep talking about him like he wasn't there? Like he wasn't trying to get home?

“Oh so now it’s my fault you made friends with a homicidal demon?” Stan mocked. 

“Maybe if you hadn’t ruined my life I wouldn’t have.”

“Let it go already!” Stan shoved Ford backwards, knocking him into the ground, and knocking the infinity-sided-die out of his pocket and rollin onto the ground. Ford grasped at it, but it slipped from his fingers. When it landed on one of its infinite sides, a bright light shot from it like a laser and directly into the television screen as the incredibly catchy Duck-tective theme started to play.  

The screen sizzled with light as the duck shot from the TV and grew enormous in size, lumbering eight feet in the air. He wandered around, pecking at the floor to check for bread crumbs.

“Woah, cool,” Mabel said, standing in the shadow. He cocked its head at her, big eyes boring into her.  Stan put a hand on her shoulder and eased her away, raising one fist in preparation, while Ford pulled a gun out from behind his coat.

“Step back, Mabel. We don’t know what it wants,” Ford urged. Duck-tective pecked downwards, latching onto his gun and swallowing it whole.

“Nah,” she pushed Stan away and walked up to her larger than life toy. “It’s just Duck-tective. I’ve seen every episode of this show and I know that all he wants is bread and to solve mysteries. He’s harmless.” Just then, Duck-tective looked down at her honked with fascination and picked up her up off the ground in his beak. “Nevermind! He’s not harmless!” Mabel kicked and punched at the toy, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Ford fired his gun, but the beam of bright blue light only ricocheted off of of his stuffing. Stan tried to grab at her, but their hands never met. “Mabel! Mabel, it’s okay! We’ll get you down.” But it was too late.

Duck-tective turned around, smashing through one of the walls of the newly-repaired Mystery Shack and dragged her into the forest, screaming for help.  

 

\-------

 

Duck-tective dropped her off in a clearing off the forest that hovered over Gravity Falls lake. She landed on the ground, dirt smearing onto her legs. “Ow! The least you could do is be gentle” The duck quacked at her, disinterested. With a sigh she crossed her arms in a huff. Duck-tective snooped around the forest, looking for… something. She wasn’t sure what but his beak was buried deep into the grass.

She looked over her shoulder, “Okay. Well, not that this wasn’t fun, but I’m just gonna head back now.” She tried to crawl away, but as soon as she moved, Duck-tective leaned over and honked violently in her face. He then nudged her back into her spot. She sighed, “I guess you’re not letting me go, huh?”

Another honk, this one more affirming.

“This day is going not how I thought it would.” She picked up a stick and began to draw in the dirt. “They were supposed to get along. And now I’ve probably made them fight worse.” The point of her stick caressed the soft earth, as she sketched the image of her broken family.

Duck-tective pulled his head up from the grass, and spat a few insects at Mabel’s feet. He bobbed his head at them, and waited with impatient black eyes.

“Ewwww.” The duck kept looking at her. “That’s nice and all, but I don’t eat bugs.” She stared back down at the dirt, absent-mindedly drawing a pine tree with a stick. “How am I supposed to get you back if I can’t even get our Grunkles to get along.” She looked up at her giant duck captor, soulless eyes and detective hat. “I just hope they come quick.”

 

\------

 

Stan paced back and forth in the living room, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “This is just great. My great-niece has been kidnapped by a giant crime-fighting duck.”

Ford leaned down and grabbed the infinity-sided die, shoving it back into it’s protective case. “Well, if you hadn’t pushed me, my infinity-sided die wouldn’t have rolled out of my pocket.”

“Are you seriously trying to put the blame on me right now! Mabel is missing and all you care about is your ego!”

“ _My_ ego, Stanley? You’re the one who wouldn’t let me talk to her because you can’t handle the fact that you are just as guilty as I am.”

Stan groaned and tossed his arms into the air. “Would you cut the crap, Sixer? We can fight later, right now we need to figure out how to get Mabel back.” He sunk down into his chair, too worried to think straight.

“Right,” Ford slunk onto the arm of the chair, rubbing at his chin. “Though I don’t know how I would defeat such a thing. We’d need to get on its level. We’d need some way to distract it so we can take Mabel and run.” His eyes widened with thought. “Stanley, you’ve seen the whole thing, right?”

“Yes.” Stan waited with a patient curiosity.

“So that means you know how Duck-tective is smitten with that lady-swan. The one that seems a little too inappropriate for children?”

Stan hesitated, “Yes?”

Ford leaned into his brother, batting his eyes and grinning. “You would look darling in white feathers.”

“Oh no.”

 

\------

 

Mabel sat on the edge of a log, waiting rather impatiently now. She kept staring down at her stick figure portrait. This was her fault, none of this would be happening if she just minded her own business. Maybe Stan and Ford could never get along.  She blew the hair out of her face. She looked at Duck-tective over her shoulder, who was trying to scavenge up more seeds and bugs for her. “Hey! Why’d you kidnap me anyway?”

Duck-tective shook his head and waddled over to the stick-figure portrait of her family. He raised one webbed foot, and stomped on the pictures of Stan and Ford, turning them to brown mush. He quacked into her face and frowned.

“I don’t know what that means.”

Duck-tective shook his head. Reaching down, he picked up a log with his beak and began to draw 2 frowny faces in the dirt. He then drew a rather terrible, but decipherable image of him self and her, smiling. Then he stomped again on the frowny faces.

“Oh, I get it. You think they’re bad guys! Like in the episode, The Un-Quackable Case? And you had to save that girl from those thieves who wanted her family’s money!”

Duck-tective nodded.

“No! You’ve got it all wrong! I’m not in any danger with those guys. They’re my just my Grunkles. They wouldn’t do anything bad. They love me... they just aren't very good at showing it right now...”

She spoke too soon. Someone wandered out into the clearing, slinking through the grass, covered in the small soft feathers that came out of pillows. Stan stepped forward, groaned and looked over his shoulder and into the grass. “For a smart guy, this is a pretty dumb idea.”

Ford popped out. “Be quiet, Stanley, don’t let the duck know it’s you.”

“Uhh, guys?” Mabel said.

Stan groaned and strode out to Duck-tective. “Honk, honk. I am a lovely swan,” he tucked his hands into his sides and folded his elbows out like wings, the feathers taped to his arms flowing in the breeze. He looked down at the ground and flapped his arms. “Oh no. It appears that someone has stolen my purse. If only there was a detective who could find it for me.”

Duck-tective looked at Stan and flapped his wings with excitement. His dark eyes went wide with infatuation. He quacked and pecked at Stan's head.

“Ow stop it, you dumb bird! I mean,” he cleared his throat. “Honk? Honk?”

Duck-tective flapped his wings harder and chased Stan into the grass.

Mabel laughed, nearly rocking back off the log. Aww man, she wished she had a camera. This was a serious scrapbook-ortunity

“Pssst, Mabel.” Ford called to her from the underbrush. “Come with me while Stan has the duck distracted.”

“Grunkle Ford? What’s going on here?”

“We came to rescue you!”

Wait… _we?_ Did he say we? Stan _and_ Ford? “Both of you… together?”

“Yes, now come along. Before it realizes how unappealing Stan is!” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into the bushes. 

Her eyes sparkled with nighttime stars, smile so soft and hopeful. “It worked! My plan worked! Your love for me did bring you together!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nevermind. I’m just happy you came for me. Though we should probably help Stan out.”

Behind her Stan was screaming, running through bushes and around trees from the Duck. Feathers dusted the air, Stan huffing for breath. “Grab her and let’s get out of here!” Duck-tective latched onto the back of his suit jacket, lifting Stan into the air, and gleamed with pride. “Ahhhh!”

 

\-------

 

**Dear Dipper,**

**Since Ford came here, things have been a little rocky. He and Stan still don't get along completely, but I can see that love in their eyes. It's only a matter of time!**

**And let me tell you, you would have really liked Ford. He’s a total nerd too! He likes those old sci-fi movies and has an infinity-sided die! (Do not play with it. It looks pretty but it is not cool.)**

**Oh and we brought Duck-tective to life. It was a little crazy but Stan dressed like a lady swan and now there's a giant duck living in Gravity Falls lake. The good news is that Stan is okay with me  hanging out with Ford, and Operation “Bring You Home” can officially begin.**

 

**Wish you were here,**

**Mabel**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me at least a week to plan this chapter. It was the one thing I didn't think ahead for. I decided to play up the Duck-tective element, but then realized I had to make up a backstory for Duck-tective. It resulted in me texting my group chat in the middle of the night what they thought the natural enemy of the duck was. 
> 
> Conclusion: ducks are more powerful than us and we should fear/respect them.


	13. The Election Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Grunkle Stan decides to run for mayor, Mabel decides she needs to take over in order to help him win.

The townspeople ran out of the town hall, chanting and thrusting their fists in the air with triumph. A cannon fired filling the air with the smell of gunpowder and smoke. “Election! Election!”

Mabel wasn’t sure what had just happened in the past few hours. The mayor had died? Stan was running against Bud Gleeful in the election? Stan thought he could actually win? Everything about this made her head spin.

“Grunkle Stan, what are you doing?” she asked. 

He shrugged, trying to play if off as nothing, but definitely just as overwhelmed as she was. "Running for mayor, did I not make that clear?”

She sighed, blowing the fly aways of her hair up against the brim of her hat. “Grunkle Stan, it’s not that I think you can’t do it, it’s just… do you really think this is a good idea? I’ve never considered you the political type. And you’re not that great with people… or telling the truth about stuff. And besides, it will distract from our big mission. You know? Saving Dipper?" 

“Gahh, I know. I know you don’t think I can do it.” He grumbled at sat down on the edge of the wooden stage, right in front of the old-timey map of Gravity Falls. “Look, kid. The mayor kicking the bucket, and everything with Dipper, it got me thinking. I'm an old man, and I'm not getting any younger. My dumb brother's research is probably gonna make him famous. And what do I have to show for my life? Do I really want ‘crooked grifter’ on my tombstone? How about, ‘crooked mayor’!” He waved one hand in front of his face to envision it. 

Mabel dropped down next to him, putting her head against his shoulder, feeling his arm move beneath his suit. So that’s what was going on. Stan felt old and useless. And Dipper dying right in front of them… that probably didn’t help his mentality towards death either. It certainly wasn’t helping hers. “You’re not crooked, Stan. You’re just you.”

“Ahh, thanks, kiddo. But you’re the only person who thinks that.”

She perked up a smile. She leapt to her feet and pointed at Stan. “Then we just have to find a way to get everyone to know the real Grunkle Stan! Then everyone will love you like I do. I mean, you have a kind-of-charisma. How hard can getting you elected be?”

 

\-----

 

It was much harder than she expected.

Mabel paced across the floor of the basement. So far the election was not going well. Why did Stan have to botch the phone interview? Did he not know how to talk to people? He single-handedly ruined his own election!

She groaned and continued talking, steps echoing on the concrete floor. “It’s not that I think he can’t do it, it’s just that he can’t do it! I mean, you know how Grunkle Stan can be. I thought I could get everyone to like him but he is _not_ making this easy for me. He’s like one of those trick jelly beans. You think it’s gonna taste like cotton candy but instead it tastes like… like Grunkle Stan! And I should know how bad that taste is.”

Ford spun around in his desk chair, Journal 2 propped open in front of him. “You licked Stan?”

She nodded, “I lick everyone for my taste journal.”

He spun his chair back around and tapped his pen rhythmically on the pages of Journal 2. “Well, this is an emergency.”

“The stump speech is in a couple of days and I can’t let Bud Gleeful win! He’s up to something I know it. I can smell it in the air.” She sniffed dramatically, something did actually smell a little funky, but that was probably just secret-basement-smell. 

Ford leaned back in his chair, almost playfully with a slight smile pressed onto his lips. “Hmm. It’s a shame that there isn’t some device that would allow you to control someone else. Oh wait. Of course, yes. There is.” He reached down, sliding open one of the drawers from his filing cabinet. He pulled out a red, white, and blue striped tie, sleek fabric bright against the florescent lights. “A long time ago I designed a prototype for Ronald Reagan's masters. Just get Stan to wear this, and you can make him a literal talking head.”

Mabel peered into the tie, looking between the hems of the fabric. Green lights and metallic chips flashed against her eyes. “Isn’t that a little sleazy and unfashionable?”

“Sleazy? No! This a very serious tool, as long as it is used responsibly.”

She stared at her shoes. “But is this responsible? I’d feel bad making Stan do and say things he didn’t mean… even if he doesn’t think before he acts.” 

“You’re doing a good thing, Mabel. Stanley needs your help to win this election; and this is the best way you can help him. Besides, Stanley couldn’t possibly do it on his own. Besides, you are anything but sleazy Mabel. You're a good person. I know you wouldn't do anything for the wrong reasons." 

  
She sighed, “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course, I am! Now, as long as you wear the matching one,” he held a generic blue tie out to Mabel, “he’ll say and do whatever you want him to.”

“Thanks, Grunkle Ford!” She bolted for the elevator, both ties in hand.

He waved back without even looking. “Yes, yes.”

 

\------

 

Stan looked at his tie and groaned in disgust. “Do I really have to wear this thing? It looks like a flag threw up on me.”

“Grunkle Stan, just trust your lucky tie.” Mabel grinned to herself knowingly. Her red, white, and blue sweater stood bright against the summer day. She and Soos were doing their campaign management work behind the scenes: which was to say that Soos did work and Mabel did all the managing. Especially of Stan. If everything went according to plan, Stan would win the Stump Speech no-problemo. When all of his brain-thoughts came out of his mouth, she would turn them off and take over. Simple.

“And now, Stanford Pines,” Sheriff Blubs announced to the crowd.

Mable shoved Stan towards the stage, “You’re on, Grunkle Stan!” This would be fine.

She pulled the matching tie out from the waistband of her skirt where it was hidden and slipped it over her neck. Only for emergencies.

Stan parted the curtains, big dorky grin on his face. “Hiya there! Stan Pines here.” He leaned on the podium. “Let's get real. Do you think the women of Gravity Falls wear too much makeup?”

Emergency. Big emergency. Who even taught Stan how to talk to women?

She clicked the dial on the blue tie and watched as Stan immediately zoned out. She spoke up, hearing his voice echo hers. “Uh, what I meant to say was: you ladies all look great. And have you done something with your hair? Girl, you are working it!” She snapped a few times for emphasis. The crowd seemed to like that. And how could they not? She was charming, even when all her actions were funneled through Stan.

She wiped the sweat off her forehead, nudging the top of her pinetree hat. “I'm Stan Pines. You may know me as the guy who accidentally let all those bees loose in that elementary school a few years back. But believe me, bees have feelings too. They’re so small and fuzzy! I believe that in Gravity Falls we can help bees and kids live together in a perfect world!”

There was a moment of silence that fell over the crowd. Someone shouted. “What does any of that mean?” 

Geez. Tough crowd.

She shrugged, “Public education or something like that? Save the bees?”

The crowd clapped some, a polite yet unenthusiastic approval. This was much harder than expected. She should have made Ford do it. He would run for mayor and win. She needed Dipper. If Dipper were there he’d know exactly what to say, and she knew what he'd tell her to do now. She had to trust her gut.

She cleared her throat. “Listen, people of Gravity Falls, you must know that more than anyone I’ve had my hardships this summer. The Mystery Shack has been destroyed many times. I had a run-in with the US government. And,” she paused and took a breath, feeling the unsteadiness rise up like the tide in her throat. “And I lost Dipper. The pain is unbearable. But I have hope. I believe in Gravity Falls and I want to do something good with my life to make up for all the loss I've experienced. So please, have faith in me as I have faith in you. Don’t let this summer go to waste.” She held back her tears, Stan didn’t cry. She couldn’t cry. It would give her away.

The moment of silence was followed by cheering, clapping, sobs of hope and hardship. Mabel turned back the dial, releasing Stan from her control. She pried the tie from around her neck and stuffed it back into her waistband.

Stan broke through the curtain, scratching his head.

Mabel was crying now, doing her best to swallow it down before he could see. “Grunkle Stan, that was amazing!” She threw herself arm him, arms encompassing around his middle and squeezing with all her might.

Soos rushed over to them, wiping away one tear from his round cheek. “Yeah! How’d you do it Mr. Pines? That was so heartfelt and powerful.”

“Eh, I don't know. I just opened my mouth and spoke from the heart, or... gut, or something.” Stan looked over his shoulder at the stage. “And what is that sound? Why are people jamming their hands together?”

Mabel poked her face out from his suit. “It’s applause, Grunkle Stan. They love you!”

“They… love... me?” He looked over his shoulder again, the uproar of multiple voices chanting his name rising over the trees.

She sniffled. “I told you we could find a way to make everyone love you like I do.”

“Hey,” he put a hand on her back, “why are you crying, pumpkin?”

“No reason." She buried her face into the side of his jacket. "You’re just said a lot of really good stuff out there. A lot of stuff I think I needed to get off my chest too.” 

 

\------

Things were going great. That was the only way to phrase it. Stan was the town darling. Kissing babies. Giving speeches. The whole shebang.

The only issue: it was starting to get to Stan’s head. He didn’t even know why people liked him so much other than they did. While it certainly brightened his mood, it was starting to damper Mabel’s. Stan had become known for being a more sensitive candidate. A guy who had been through so much as was trying to use his experience wisely. In truth, he was acting like a know-it-all jerk.

He walked through the entrance of Greasy’s Diner, getting everyone to chant his name. It was really starting to drive Mabel bonkers. Everything Stan said was because of her. Everyone should be cheering for her. And worst of all… he had taken off the mind control tie. His usual suit now replaced with some brown and wine-colored 70’s disaster. It looked awful. Plus, if he said something he shouldn’t, she couldn’t swoop in and save him.

She shmushed her face down against the table, into the stacks of election notes and speeches she had spent the past multiple days preparing. She was so tired now, it was hard to even focus.

Stan sat down across from her, while Lazy Susan slid a stack of pancakes in front of him with a little sign that read STAN 4 MAYOR stuck into them. They smelt really good. That made her feel nauseous. “On the house, Mr. Bigshot,” she said.

Stan grinned and picked up his knife and fork. “Now this I could get used to.”

Mabel put on her best fake smile. “Grunkle Stan, what’s with the outfit? You’re missing your lucky tie.”

He sliced into this pancakes. The smelt so good, sweet and warm. When was the last time she ate something? She was starting to lose track of time. “Aw come on, have you seen the polls? I can debate naked and I can still win! Huh, come to think of it…”

A laugh escaped between her teeth. “Seriously though, I need you to wear that suit and tie, Grunkle Stan.”

“What’s with this, Mabel? Telling me what to do? Everyone in this town is finally showing me some respect. It’s about time you did too.”

She ground her teeth against each other, biting her tongue as not to speak. “It’s not that… I just like the suit. That’s all. And the tie is so patriotic. Fashion has a lot to do with politics.”

“And what would you know about politics?” He took a bite of his pancakes.

“Oh more than you know… So will you wear the suit for me? Please? The voters say you look handsome. That the stripes are slimming.” She batted her eyes at him.

Stan sighed, “Well when you put it like that...” He smiled, “Ahh fine. For you.”

"Trust me, Stan." A pit was forming in her stomach, both heavy and hallow all at once. “You have no idea what this means.”

 

\------

 

Election day had come. Mabel thought she was going to throw up (and she would have if she had eaten anything in the past few hours). Stan was overconfident. It was a normal day.

Well, almost normal. The monument being erected to the former mayor was freaking her out a little. Something about that wrinkly face forever carved in stone. The dead eyes and hollowed out nostrils. Gravity Falls was full of some mysteries she would never understand.

The other thing was Bud Gleeful. Something was up. While he was typically a chipper guy, today he was… weird. Very weird. Kind of creepily adorable, using baby-talk when he spoke and singing about crime. It was awfully familiar though… what was it?

Stan walked up beside her. “Are we ready to go, campaign manager?” She kept silent, gnawing on the inside of her cheek. Something wasn’t right. Stan pulled on the edge of the mind control tie. “And aye, look at this. I got the suit on. Fashion and politics, right?”

Mabel rocked back on her heels. “Yup. Totally.”

“What’s up, kiddo? No offense, but you look kinda like Dipper. Pale, jumpy, paranoid.” Mabel stopped, did she? Huh. She never considered herself to be much like Dipper. Not in that way. She was happy go lucky and calm all the time. She must be tired, or maybe a little hungry. She just needed the election to be over so she could rest. 

She shook her head. “I’m fantastic. Never better. Just excited.” She bit down on the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste raw flesh and blood. 

“Just have faith in your old Grunkle Stan! I’m gonna kill it out there just like I always do.” He ruffled her hair, albeit not without a sense of worry and hesitation to his voice. 

“Right… you are.”

The candidates were all summoned to the stage, the birdseed tossing election about to begin. “Well, here goes nothing. Next time you see me I’ll be Mayor Grunkle Stan!” He strutted his way onto the stage, the sound of his footsteps following him. 

Mabel didn’t watch him go instead she stared at her tie.

“Hey, Mabel.” Soos walked up to her, wearing his YES WE STAN sweater that she made for everyone on the campaign team. “You doing okay?”

“No. I’m not.” She sighed, “Let’s say you were doing something wrong, but you were doing it for someone you loved. Like mind-controlling them? To make them happy. To make their life better. But you were also doing it to stop a creepy little kid from getting out of prison and taking over the town. Would that be wrong?”

He shrugged, “I dunno. Yes? No? Maybe? This all sounds very hypothetical and not at all real. I don’t do well under this kind of pressure.”

“Neither do I.” She clicked the tie on.

 

\------

 

“And now a quick intermission,” Shandra Jimenez said into her microphone. Mabel clicked off the tie and sucked in her breath. That went much differently than she expected.

First of all, she did not know as much about politics as she originally thought. When asked a question about taxes, she responded with a statement about kittens in every pot. In truth she knew nothing about taxes… other than how Grunkle Stan went to extreme measures to avoid them. But everyone likes kittens right? Nope. People are actually very confused when you bring up kittens without context.

Then there was Bud. When it came his turn to answer he ripped off all his clothes (Mabel closed her eyes for that part) revealing a sparkly little number and sang a song. It was so eerily cute and a little gross. She groaned and slumped back against a tree and sucked in her breath, the let it all out in one large huff. There was no way she was going to let herself lose to Bud Gleeful. “I don’t get it!” She shouted to no one in particular. “He’s almost acting just like… like…

“Widdle ol’ me.” That voice she knew. So weaselly and oversaturated with soft w’s and vowel sounds. Bud shuffled over to her, eyes dull and empty. But he didn’t speak. No that voice came from the screen attached to his stomach, a little round face and a pile of white hair. “Ah! Hello there, long time no see. Except in my revenge fantasies where I see you on an hourly basis.”

She staggered backwards, “Gideon! You little freak. I knew you had something to do with you. You’ve been controlling Bud, haven’t you?”

“And it seems you've been controlling Stanford, though I’ll admit, I didn’t think my little peach dumpling could be so manipulative. You’ve gotten much eviler than when I last saw you." He snickered, plump cheeks turning red in glee. 

“I'm not as bad as you!” she screamed. 

“Are you really? My dear, Mabel. You and I are more alike than ever." He leaned in close to the screen, so all she could see was him. "Controlling people feels good doesn't it?”

“No, it feels yucky. Like I’m eating stale candy and flat soda. I think I'm doing what's right but I know I'm only gonna hurt Stan in the end. It's wrong to treat him like he's my,” she swallowed, “puppet.” The word echoed through her skull. It made her mouth taste stale and her heart feel weak. 

What had she done?

She was no better than Bill. She had become like him. She wasn't getting any closer to redeeming herself. She was only getting further away. Suddenly her face felt very hot while her head spun. 

Gideon's voice cut through her distress. "Face it, Mabel. You're no better than the rest of us."

Prying the tie off her neck, she threw it to the ground, blue fabric dull and tasteless against the soft grass and rich dirt. She brought her foot down, crushing the dial underneath her heel. The crunch was satisfying, all the circuitry and wires breaking into frail bits of metal and plastic. Mabel sucked in her breath. “I’m not like you at all. I know when I’ve done something wrong. You just don’t care at all.”

“It ain’t that simple, Mabel.” He snapped his fingers, leaning into the chair in the center of his prison cell, blue and cold. “Daddy.”

Bud grabbed her in both his arms. Mabel kicked and bit his arm, but Bud was too far gone in Gideon’s control to care if she hurt him or not.

“Let go of me,” she screamed, wriggling and trying to slip her way free. “Help! Someone help me!” But no one heard.

Where was Stan? Where was Soos? Where was anyone?

Bud hauled her up in the elevator through the former mayor’s memorial. The higher up they got, the colder the air felt, and the more her nose filled with powder from the rocky mountain. And the farther away she was from help. Bud dropped her into a chair, tying her arms down until her wrists dug into the chair’s wooden sides and her chest compressed into her lungs. The hollowed out nostril of the memorial swelled with dust. Boxes of fireworks and gunpowder stacked into hills against the sides of her prison, and the rope tied to those.

“Behold, your grand view of the debate! Once I win this election, I'll finally rule this backwoods town!” Gideon declared from the screen.

“You'll never get away with this, you creepy little dork!”

“Oh, I'd be happy to spare you, Mabel. If you agree to be mine. I even made you this wedding dress in crafts class!” He held up a dress, off-white to brown pieces of patchwork held together with string and bandaids. He leaned in and whispered, “Don't ask what it's made of.”

  
“Eww, I’d rather die, you creep!”

“Fine! Have it your way. Once I win, they'll hit the plunger for the fireworks display, finishing the mountain's construction, trapping you inside. I've been trapped behind concrete all summer, now see how you like it! Say hello to the next mayor of Gravity Falls, kids!” Bud walked away, the sound of Gideon’s laughter echoing from the speakers of the screen.

“No! I won’t let you!” Mabel shouted, scooting her chair backwards against the stone with a long and violent scratch. The rope pushed against her chest, inching up closer to her throat. She bumped the chair backwards again. “Help!” she screamed, voice tearing out of her throat. “Someone help me! Please!”  She pressed the edge of her feet into the stone and pushed back, the chair screeching against the air. Through the carved holes in the stone, the election loomed below. She could see Stan, the outline of his suit on the stage, the blurred figure of his face looking up. “I’m strapped to a bunch of fireworks! Someone help! Please!”

Mabel pressed her feet down again, trying to get closer to the hole so that someone could see her. But when she dropped the chair, the floor caved inwards, as if made of paper.

Her stomach nearly lurched out of her mouth as she fell, and then ricocheted back against the tug of the rope. The fireworks held her suspended over the election, high enough to see the birds and the tops of the trees but still low enough to make out all the details of the election. The piles of bird seed, the screams, and Stan… just looking at her, eyes wide and tired.

And she was up so high. She couldn’t help but think what would happen if she fell. All the blood. “Please!”

Below her Stan shouted at the audience, ripping off the sleeves of his jacket in one swift (and seemingly practiced) motion. “Listen, everybody! This debate is over! I gotta go save my niece!” Then he sprinted, full force to the monument. Gripping to the rungs of the scaffold, he climbed upwards, not even once looking down. Just focusing on her.

The rope frayed at the center, threads snapping one by one, Mabel dropped closer to the ground with each fiber. “Stan! Stan, I'm scared. I'm up so high. Please don't let me fall. Please! I don't wanna have my brains splatter on the ground! There would be so much blood. You can't let it happen to me too!” Her voice wailed, throat clogged and eyes stinging. As still as she tried to stay, she couldn’t. The wind knocked her back and forth, while each desperate gasp for air burned in her chest. “Don’t let me go too!” 

“I'm coming, sweetheart. I won't let you fall!” he shouted up at her, voice echoing against the mountain. The citizens of Gravity Falls tossed hand fulls of bird seed at him. The grains bounced off of his shoulders and into his hair, attracting a flock of eagles to peck at his skin. “No, stop it! Thank you, but stop it,” he shouted below. He punched back an eagle, then another. “Ahh! Get back, you terror birds!”

Mabel looked back up at the rope, hanging by its final threads. So this was how it was going to end? With just her. And the falling… falling… crack. And the blood. All that blood. It would be poetic. To go the same way Dipper did-- maybe that was the universe trying to bring them back together. Or maybe as a punishment-- to suffer his fate. Her fingers dug into the side of the chair as she closed her eyes and held her breath.

Then it snapped.

Her body lurched downwards. Her hair brushed against the side of her face. The rope tugged back upwards, plucking Mabel out of the air. She peeked open her eyes. “Grunkle Stan!”

He grunted, hands turning red and arms straining. “Mabel! Holy Moses. I thought I lost you for a moment.”

Her breath loosened, tears dripping down her temples and into her hair. “I'm sorry Stan. I lied to you. The tie isn't lucky. It's a mind control tie that Ford gave to me. I just wanted to help you win. And then I was reminded of all the bad stuff that happens when you control people. None of this would have happened if I supported you win or lose. I’m not a good person.” 

   
Stan gave a surprised, yet soft grin. “Aww sure you are, kiddo. You're just trying to look out for your old Grunkle Stan. I know I can be a little rough around the edges.” He pulled harder on the rope. “But that doesn't mean what you did was right. You should have come to talk to me first. Just promise me you'll think these things through from now on.” Stan pried Mabel up to the top of the monuments nose, yanking her free of the constraints.

  
She tucked her face against him, arms spread into a hug. “Promise.” Stan raised her to her feet, letting her lean on him for balance. He pressed her head into her shoulder, dragging his fingers through her hair. The crowd cheered beneath them. Yeah, Stan was a pretty good guy. She didn’t need a mind control tie to make people know that. His box overflowed with birdseed, which now that she was thinking of it was a pretty awesome way to elect a mayor. But then there was Bud-- or Gideon controlling Bud-- reaching out for the fireworks detonator.

Stan put both his hands under her arms, holding her close to his chest. His eyes settled on Bud, not on her. “Mabel, if I die, make sure I get a bigger tombstone than Ford.”

“No! Don’t jump--”

He jumped off the monument. The two glided through the air as the fireworks went off, throwing chunks of stone and puffs of dust into the air. Her eyes were filled with the sparkle and burn of bright reds, yellows, and greens, completely concealing her vision from the oncoming impact.

  
They burrowed into the pile of birdseed from Stan’s box, the grain cushioning their fall and burying Mabel almost up to her head. She looked up at Stan, who was still with wide and confused eyes as a bald eagle swooped down from the sky and planted a kiss on his head, anointing him mayor. It was kind of cute.

The townsfolk went wild, cheering. Tossing their hats into the air, whistling, and chanting ‘Mayor Pines’ over and over. One of Stan’s hands scooped her out of the birdseed pile and onto her feet. He grinned at her, cheeks flushing a bright pink, sun glinting behind him.

She wiped at the tears streaking under her eyes. She took him by the hand. “You’re my hero, Grunkle Stan.”

 

**Dear Dipper,**

 

**So Stan ran for mayor. And can you believe it, he actually WON. I knew everyone could see Stan for his good side. For a grumpy old man, he can be very loveable. Except for the part where he has an extensive criminal record and was disqualified. But he’s my hero anyway. And I’d hate to say it, but I think Stan would make a pretty good mayor. Sure his business techniques are a little “illegal” and he doesn’t believe in things like “the law”, but he’s got a heart of gold beneath all that cholesterol! He's my hero, and that's what counts.**

**The other bad news: Gideon is back. Err--kinda. He’s still in prison but he tried to kill me by tying me to a bunch of fireworks. Long story short, he’s messing with some bad junk and I’m gonna have to figure out what he’s gonna do next.**

**While the past few weeks have been super cool, it’s been lonely without you. And the end of summer is getting closer. I’ve got the feeling I’m never gonna see you again. So far nothing I’ve done has worked and I’m so tired! I can’t keep doing this to myself. I just wanna talk to you one more time.**

**Wish you were here,**

**Mabel**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another one of those incredibly long episodes that I struggled to translate...   
> But as I wrote it I noticed a motif of falling/descent. Not always a literal falling, but characters moving from high to low points throughout the story, and it works their way into other parts of the story as well. I think bringing Mabel into a position of literal falling represents her trauma. She is about to hit her lowest point, and its up to other characters to pull her up. 
> 
> Finally, my English degree is being put to good use.


	14. The Election Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper learns that he and Modoc are not the only ones in the mindscape when George Washington decides to pay them a visit.

Dipper floated over the ground, sitting cross-legged in thought. The sun pulled itself over the horizon, easing into the gentle morning. He peeked one eye open at Modoc, who fell deep into meditation--the only kind of rest one could seem to get in the mindscape. Inter-dimensional dust bunnies blew past him, clumps of of dust, dead planets, and odd scraps of wherever they had been.

He checked to make sure Modoc was still in deep thought and then snuck after them. Inter-dimensional dust bunnies had become his favorite thing since arriving. They were something to do, something tangible. He could scoop out whatever was inside them and explore his few and far between treasures. Or he could kick them like soccer balls. Throw them into the air and watch them get caught by the breeze he couldn’t feel. He grabbed one with the tips of his fingers and pulled it in close. Behind the matted dirt, Dipper pulled out a thick piece of flamingo pink string out and coiled it over his hand.

He gripped it in his palm for a moment, trying to squeeze until he felt the sensation of his fingernails in his palms or until the blood flow to his hand ceased. But of course that moment wouldn’t come. Then he tied it, over and over into tiny little knots. Obsessive, one after another. Untying and retying until he felt he got it right. And when he tied the whole string he would untie it and start again.The other dust bunnies revealed their own treasures: scraps of rough fabric, feathers the color of lavender fields, and strange, dried flowers that did not look like they were from Earth.

But there was also the memory. Being tossed against asteroids, the smell of burning hair, the wormholes. And Bill. Something was coming.  

He closed his eyes and counted to 10. It was over and he was… home. Yeah. This was home now.

 _“What are you doing?”_ Dipper spun around, dropping the piece of string and other small treasures. Modoc slipped to his side, waiting patiently for the answer.

_“Playing? With the dust bunnies.”_

_“Hmmm. I see.”_

Dipper sighed, and let his head droop forward. _“Sorry. I probably disturbed you. We can go back to meditating now.”_

Modoc pursed his lips, then let one edge curve into the semblance of a smile. _“The mindscape, despite its horrors, has its wonders as well. The dust bunnies are only one of them. In fact, there’s something I have to show you.”_

Dipper smiled. Modoc seemed different lately. While the guy still had an issue with laughter, smiling, the generic idea of having fun, he was warming up some. Dipper felt like they were getting somewhere. Modoc had become something more akin to a parent. Controlling, overbearing, but also more affectionate and understanding. He was trying.

Maybe an eternity like this wouldn’t be so bad? 

Something crept up behind Modoc. Dipper could only catch the haze of white and black before--  _“Modoc! Look out!”_ Modoc barely had a moment to turn, grabbing Dipper by the wrist and pulled the both of them out of its way.

The thing leapt upwards and then started screaming. No--wait, it was laughing. And it was an old  man, with white hair and what looked like old-timey bed clothes. In fact, he looked awfully familiar.

 _“Ugh,”_ Modoc groaned, looking at the man. _“It’s George.”_

 _“George?”_ Dipper repeated.

The man laughed again, this time revealing that he had no teeth, just soft pink gums. He raised a hand and smacked Modoc on the back. _“Good day, sir! It has been quite a long time since we’ve met, Modoc!”_ No. Dipper definitely knew who this was. He had seen that guys face before. There was something regal to his face, beyond the wrinkles and the madness.

Then it clicked, _“Is that…”_

 _“Yes,”_ Modoc rubbed at his temples. _“George Washington.”_

_“What is the first president of the United States doing in the mindscape?”_

_“Why else? He was tricked by Bill. Like you and I, until his eventual death. However, George was driven to insanity by his encounters with Bill. To the point where he ground his teeth to dust. Bill possessed him and took up bloodletting as a hobby, which eventually brought George here."_  Modoc groaned, "Now _he’s just a pain in my neck.”_

Meanwhile, George Washington wouldn’t stop laughing, like someone kept telling a really good joke over and over.

 _“That’s not something you read in the history books.”_ Dipper couldn’t believe it. Even the president had made the same mistake as him. Still it was curious. Bill constantly went after adults with power. People with influence. So why did Bill possess him instead of say… those government guys? Why him? Why did it have to be him? _“Wait. I thought you said you were alone in the mindscape?”_

 _“Believe me. George is not good company.”_ Modoc turned and looked at the former president. _“Why are you here, George? Go back to your monument.”_

 _“I mustn’t! I go wherever the spirit of democracy is the strongest. There is an important election happening here in the town of Gravity Falls! Certainly not a minor blip in human history. I need to witness this! Besides,"_  he put one arm around Modoc, _“It has been a long time since I’ve seen my old friend.”_

_“I’m not your friend.”_

_“Very good!”_ George Washington cocked his head at Dipper, and busted out a toothless grin. Grabbing Dipper, he hoisted him high into the air with pride. _“And you’ve found yourself a strapping young lad. He will fight well against our enemies in the war.”_

 _“Hey, put me down, man!”_ Dipper squirmed against George's grip. 

Reaching out, Modoc plucked Dipper from the former president’s hands and released him to float in the air. _“The Revolutionary War ended a long time ago. Dipper is here for the same reason that you and I are. So please, stop frightening him.”_

 _“No.”_ George stared at Dipper, face unmoving like a portrait. _“This is different…”_

 

\------

 

Dipper groaned, flying behind Modoc diligently. _“We should be able to hide out from George for a while here.”_ Modoc stopped flying, feet planted firmly as if actually touching the ground. _“This is what I wanted to show you earlier.”_

Dipper looked down at his feet. They ditched George Washington somewhere in the forest, not wanting to hear any more of his ‘when I was president’ and ‘I thought I told everyone not to devolve into a 2 party system’ speeches. But now he was wishing he stayed to listen. _“Wow! Modoc! It’s… just a whole bunch of grass and dirt.”_ When Modoc said he had something to show Dipper, he was expecting it to be a little bit more… exciting? This was just a clearing in the woods. If this was all he had to look forward to in the mindscape, he would have to find a much more interesting place than Gravity Falls to spend eternity.

_“No, my boy. Beneath the ground. Phase through it.”_

_“Right!”_

He steadied himself, and focused just on slipping. Phasing through items was weird. Usually he did it without thinking. He could feel the particles in his body interact with the physical world, how they didn’t match up. The immaterial and the material blending together for a moment. For a moment, there was just darkness, the crust of the earth. Nothing to see.

And then he popped out into a cave, what would have been pitch black to the normal human eye but he could see with clarity. Hollow mounds of dirt, the crust of red and black cave paintings on the makeshift walls, one of them decorated with tendrils of string and fabric tied into ropes--as if to cover something. Baskets, bowls, all stacked into the corners of the room. The items looked makeshift, crafted out of bits of dead grass, multicolored fabric, and thin strings of twine.

_“Woah… what is this place?”_

Modoc fell through the earth behind him, the residue of a smile plastered to his face. _“I’ve nearly forgotten about this place. This was mine during my life. It is where I spoke with Cipher in private, where I learned all he taught. Unfortunately it was looted multiple times, by the Northwest family and by Stanford Pines as well. But now I have reclaimed it as my own-- a home you might say.”_

_“This is so cool. Like a secret hideout.”_

Modoc chuckled, _“Consider it a home, and your home as well. Everything in here is made from materials I scavenged from the inter-dimensional dust bunnies. They have no use, but they give me something to do.  A sense of normality. It should come as a relief to you.”_

Dipper reached out, his fingers gracing the outside of a woven basket. The combination of flora and fabric against his skin was wonderful, beyond comparison wonderful. Something tangible and real. More than just a string or the lumberjack ghost’s axe lodged in his gut. Something so normal that existed both in and out of his small but infinite world. He wanted to cry but his body wouldn’t allow it. He grabbed the rope off the floor, tugging at its ends, feeling the yank of his arms and between his shoulder blades.

For a moment, everything felt good.

 _“What a lovely, little home. Poorly furnished though.”_ Dipper turned around and screamed, George Washington leaning over him. _“This won’t do. Luckily, I have a knack for interior design.”_

_“How’d you find us!”_

_“Oh. I followed you here. Was I not supposed to hear you whispering?”_

Modoc threw one hand in the air, _“Just get out of here, George!”_

 _“I can’t. Whoever decorated this place has horrible taste.”_ He grabbed on of the baskets, walked it over to the opposite side of the cave and flipped it upside down. _“Oh yes. I think this is very nice.”_

This was the first time Dipper saw Modoc make any kind of expression, cheeks puffed out and eyebrows scrunched together. _“Chill out, Modoc. Okay, George Washington is a bit crazy and annoying, but he can’t be here that long. He will have to run out of things to decorate eventually, or the election will end. It can’t be so bad.”_

\------

 

It was bad. George Washington was by far one of the most annoying people who could have ended up in the mindscape. He rearranged the cave multiple times, asking Dipper to hold things or drag them back and forth while he made up his mind if it looked right. Sometimes Dipper and Modoc would sneak out of the cave, only to return hours later and find that George was staring at the same basket and humming to himself. Other times, George would follow them into the forest and ramble on and on about politics and war strategies.

And the election was taking days. It was like it would never end. Not to mention that through his digging, Dipper discovered that Grunkle Stan decided to run for mayor. That would not end well. But Mabel seemed to have that one under control.

But if one good thing came out of George Washington’s presence, it was spending time with Modoc. For once, it felt like they were bonding. Even if only over their mutual hatred for someone else. The prophet’s true colors were finally starting to show. More relaxed. Less obsessed with teaching Dipper about the mindscape and more oriented on showing him the few ways to enjoy it.

Dipper kicked the interdimensional dust bunny back at Modoc. If you had asked him when he was alive if he liked playing games of strength and dexterity, he would have said no way. But when you never got tired and could fly, games got a little more fun. If you haven’t played soccer while flying through trees and kicking the ball as sonic high speeds, then you haven’t really played soccer.

Using two trees as goal posts, Dipper knocked the ball back one more time, watching it shoot between the trees like lightning. _“Haha! Yes! And to think the other kids used to make fun of me for being unathletic.”_

Modoc chuckled. _“I’m going easy on you.”_

 _“Bring it on, old man!”_ As Dipper rushed for the dust bunny, the wind scooped it up, tossing it against the air and phasing through the ground below, right into Modoc’s cave. _“Oh…”_

Modoc sighed, _“Looks like that ends our game. George is still down there causing a ruckus.”_

_“You know what, I’m just gonna go get it. What could he possibly be up to down there anyway?”_

_“Dipper--”_

He didn’t pay any attention. Dipper wasn’t planning on spending his afterlife letting a former president do whatever he wanted. He would just ignore George Washington. It was as easy as that. Phasing into the cave Dipper took a look around. Shreds from the woven baskets scattered across the floor, interdimensional dust bunnies pulled apart. George muttered to himself, pacing back and forth across the air. _“All bad things. All bad things.”_

The decorative ropes that hung on the wall were piled into clumps on the floor, and in their place, a black and red cave painting that Dipper hadn’t noticed before, but had definitely seen. A circle with ten different symbols across the border, and Bill staring back at him. He had seen that before. He didn’t know what it meant or what it was for, but he knew he had seen it before.

He staggered back, placing one hand on his hat. The pine tree. It was there in the circle.

It was him.

And it was staring at him, painted edges jagged and fading on the old cave wall. A thousand years of prophecy.

George turned around, eyes wide and gummy smile wide across his face. _“You! You bear the symbol.”_  He gripped him by the shoulders, speaking with the entirety of his fleshy gums. _“You need to leave! You mustn't stay here. Without you the world will surely perish! All bad things, my boy!”_

 _“What are you talking about? Leave me alone, man!”_ Dipper pushed him, backing far away.

 _“He watches from within the trees! Leave! Escape while you can! Leave the mindscape! All bad things.”_ George Washington kept rambling, his eyes darting back and forth as if looking for something.

 _“But it’s impossible to leave the mindscape. Isn’t it?”_ But what if it wasn’t? What if George Washington was actually trying to tell him something? What if Bill took his sanity for a reason?

 _“All things eventually end. All bad things. You must leave!”_ He grabbed Dipper’s shoulders again, but this time Dipper didn’t back away. He would have held his breath as he could. _“He’s coming.”_

_“He? Do you mean Bill?”_

George was about to answer.

 _“That's enough, George! Leave him alone!”_ Modoc shouted, whole body phasing through the wall of the underground cave. _“Quit filling his head with your insanity.”_ He pushed George back with one hand and used the other to push Dipper behind him.

_“It is the end of days! You know it! Do you not see the writing on the wall? All bad things, my friend! This is billions of years in the--”_

_“The election is over. You can leave now. I just saw the fireworks,”_ Modoc replied, straight-faced as ever.

 _“Oh is it? How wonderful. I’d best be on my way then.”_ With that the former president saluted, and walked through the cave wall without looking back, as if nothing ever happened.

Dipper felt himself freeze up. What was that? He looked to Modoc, who made no other reaction than to shake his head. Something wasn’t right here. _“All bad things. All bad things.”_ He repeated to himself. “ _I’ve heard that before! How does it go?”_ He wracked his brain for it. The answer was in there, and he kept grasping into the empty space of his mind for it. _‘All bad things come in threes. Ugh. I know I’ve heard it before. I just don’t know where. But what does it mean? What’s going to happen. Is it Bill? What did George mean when he said--”_

 _“George is insane, Dipper. You cannot trust him or anyone else. Did you not see how easily he can become distracted? Nothing is going to happen to you.”_ Modoc reached down and grabbed the remaining ligaments of rope, trying them into one long train. _“Now let’s get out of here. I fear this place will only make you more upset.”_

Dipper nodded, still trying to make sense of what had happened. How could Modoc be so calm? But Modoc was always calm, always collected. Nothing surprised him anymore. Maybe George Washington was crazy? But that still didn’t explain the writing on the wall. The symbol he seemed to bear.

Something was coming. And for a moment, he felt it rise up in his memory as if from a lake, all the water spilling off of it. _“All bad things come in threes and watches from within the trees.”_ He muttered the words so low that even he could barely hear them.

_“What was that?”_

Dipper looked back at the wheel on the wall. Bill was definitely staring at him. Watching. _“Nothing. I’m ready to leave.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated back and forth if I should include this chapter or not, and if I could even think of anything fun/important into the scene. And while flipping through my Journal I remembered, duh George Washington! It was too good of an opportunity. But what started out as a funny joke about the first president's (completely factual) love of interior design became one of my favorite parts of the fic. One of the things I wanted to do was get Dipper and Modoc to actually get along, I wanted to make their relationship more complicated. I wanted to leave the reader wondering "What's up with this Modoc guy anyway?" He cares immensely about Dipper, but also seems forceful and even nihilistic. Throwing George into that mix made it more confusing, as George is Modoc's opposite. Completely insane, but honest and concerned about others.


	15. Project Mentum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Mabel goes on a mission to get some unicorn hair, Dipper discovers an unknown fact about Project Mentum in the basement.

Mabel stared at the stack of board games hidden in the back of one of the closets. “Grunkle Stan has to have some decent board games,” she muttered to herself as Waddles nudged at her leg. “Which one would you like? Let's see, "Battlechutes & Ladderships," "Necronomiconopoly," "Don't Wake Stalin"...” she grabbed one of them from the stack and blew off the dust. ““What Could Go Wrong the Board Game". The last players who opened up this box never made it out alive... That sounds fun.”

“Mabel! Mabel, come down here!” Ford called from the bottom of the stairs.

She looked at Waddles and shrugged. “Maybe another time. Coming, Grunkle Ford!”

She bounded down the stairs, hopping over every other step, and charged into the kitchen. Ford sat hunched over the table, old leather bag beside him. Dark purple bags hung under his eyes. The wrinkles in his clothes made it obvious that he had slept in his them last night. “Ahh, Mabel. Come in.”

She inched into the kitchen, pulling out one of the chairs and slipping in. She peeked into the bag in front of her, old scrolls and bottles clambering inside. “Ooh, mysterious scrolls and potions! Are you going to tell me I'm finally of age to go to wizard school?” She started to rummage through it.  “Is there an owl in this bag?”

He grabbed the bag, sliding it closer to himself and hiding it with his whole body. “No! I can assure you if there's an owl in this bag, he's long dead.” He cleared his throat then, trying to maintain a normal presence. “Now, there’s some very serious things I need to talk to you about.”

“Yeah,” she scrunched her face together, “I can be serious.”

“The fact that you’ve dealt with Bill is gravely serious. What all do you know about him? When was the last time you saw him?”

Mabel broke into a grin. “Is this about Dipper? Do you know how to get him back?”

“I’m afraid not. This is a much more pressing issue. Your brother will have to wait.”

“Oh…” She didn't understand how anything could be more important than Dipper. Who could possibly put anything else before saving someone who really needed to be saved.

“So has Bill been haunting your dreams? Have you been hearing his voice anywhere?”

She shook her head. “Nope. The last time I saw him was… was when it happened.”

Ford nodded, and let his breath escape through his nose. “I’m relieved to know you’ve been safe. But you see, Bill appeared to me last night in my dreams.”

“What?" 

“Yes. He’s coming. And in order to do so he needs this,” he reached into the bag and pulled out a glass orb, swirling with its own galaxy of stars and planets, yellow and black stripes wrapped around its base.

“A snow globe?”

“No. This is an interdimensional rift. When Stanley opened the portal, this is what leaked out of it. This is why I left those warnings in my Journals. I was able to contain it for now. But Bill would trick or possess anyone to get his hands on it, and that includes you.”

A gasp escaped from Mabel. She saw herself reflected in the glass of the rift, as if she were trapped inside. “What are we gonna do?”

“Fortunately, there should be a way to shield us from his mental tricks. A way to Bill-proof the Shack.” He pulled out a map of the Shack from the bag and drew on it with blue ink. “All I have to do is place moonstones here, here, and here, sprinkle some mercury, let's see... I always forget the last ingredient!" Flipping through Journal 1 his eyes scanned the pages until stopping. “Ugh, unicorn hair.”

A shriek escaped her mouth. “I love unicorns! Let's go find them!" 

He shook his head. “It’s hopeless, Mabel. Unicorns reside deep within an enchanted glade, and their hairs can only be obtained by a pure good-hearted person who goes on a magical quest to find them.”

“Oh.” She looked away from him. At first the thought was exciting. She loved unicorns, always had. Heck, she was wearing a unicorn sweater. But… “I wouldn’t be able to go on that quest. I’m not a pure, good-hearted person at all.” Let’s face it. The other day she mind-controlled Grunkle Stan. She lied to and tricked the US government. And she let Dipper die.

She was the worst kind of person.

“You’re wrong, Mabel.” For said, inching his chair next to hers. One of his hands slid across her back, pulling her into a side hug. “You’re a wonderful person. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, we all do things we aren’t proud of. But you are so compassionate and strong. All the work you’ve put into seeing your brother again, and making it up to him. That something only good people do. You’re a far better person than I am.”

She smiled, wiping her hand over her face to stop herself from crying for the 100th time this week. “Thanks, Grunkle Ford.”

“It won’t be easy. But I think you stand the best chance out of anyone.” He slid her Journal 1, older and dustier than the rest, but still held together. “Take this. And this,” he handed her a crossbow from the leather bag. “I haven't been in this dimension for a while. It's okay to give children weapons, right?”

“Pssh,” she hopped off the chair, letting the crossbow hand in her hand, “come on, dawg.” Her finger knocked the trigger, sending the arrow flying through the front door window and Stan to start yelling and a car to drive off. 

Ford flinched when the glass his the ground. “Just be cautious. If I had to describe unicorns in one word it would be: frustrating. I’ll be working in the basement on our backup plan.”

“I'm on it. I gotta call the girls!" She pulled out her phone, hitting the numbers on speed dial.

 

\-----

 

Dipper phased through the walls of the Shack, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Modoc hadn’t followed him. Dipper ditched him while they were trying to fix up some of the rope made from the interdimensional dust bunnies that George destroyed a few days ago. He ran off to go catch some of the scraps that got caught in the wind. Except he never came back.

He hadn’t had the opportunity to check in on Mabel since the portal opened. When he wandered through the house, he couldn’t find her anywhere. Not in the attic, or the kitchen. Stan was yelling on the phone in Spanish--that seemed close enough to normal. So he decided to check the basement. There was a chance she might be there.

Phasing through the floor, he steadied himself on the second level where the author was sitting at his desk chair. No-- not the author, his Great-Uncle Ford. He spent his whole summer, the last hours of his mortal life searching for this guy and now he was sitting in the basement. And Dipper couldn’t even talk to him!

What was he even doing anyway? The author leaned over what looked like a colander for straining pasta, with wires running through it and up to what had to be the biggest computer screen he had ever seen, resting on an electric green color. Dipper felt the tug of curiosity pull him closer. He floated up to it, wishing he could see his reflection on the glass. Then he stared down at the metallic base, rusting and scraping away: PROJECT MENTUM. Strange. And the machine hummed, low and soothing. It could have put Dipper to sleep, had he the ability to sleep.

The author turned his back away from the machine to write something down in the Journal, six fingers moving with quick dexterity.

 _“What is this thing?”_ he said to himself, floating away, phasing into the colander. Project Mentum screeched, like a microphone held too close to the speakers. It made Dipper’s words ring too loud in his head. _“Why is it doing that?”_

Ford turned, nearly dropping the pen in his hand. “Who’s there? Who said that?”

 _“Wait,”_ Dipper stopped and looked around the room. No one else was there. It was just… him. _“Can he hear me?”_

Ford stood up, folding his fingers into a fist and slowly reaching down for a black case labeled PROJECT 618. “Who’s there? I can hear you. Show yourself.”

Dipper spun and looked at the machine, breathing heavy with life, screen flashing in and out of consciousness. He looked back down at himself, abdomen floating inside the colander. He kept his eyes trained on the machine. He pursed his lips, then spoke. _“Hello?”_ The words scrawled across the screen, glitching and flashing with binary codes that scrolled in the background, numbers changing to fast to ever mean anything.

“Hello? Who are you? Why are you using my device?”

Dipper put a hand to his mouth. Ford could hear him. Someone could… he let his imaginary breath pick up. This was real. _“Oh my God. Oh my God. I-I”_ he caught himself, and tried to think of what to say. But there was so much he wanted to say. And so much he couldn’t. _“Great-Uncle Stanford. It’s me! It’s Dipper! You can hear me! I can’t believe it, I made contact with the living world. Someone can finally hear me.”_

“Dipper.” Ford tapped his finger on his chin. “You’re Mabel’s twin brother!”

 _“Yes! I am! Oh, man. I thought was impossible to make contact. But I did!”_ He couldn’t stop smiling. It wasn’t going to be just him and Modoc anymore. He could talk to Mabel again. Finally, he could say everything he needed to say. This wasn’t the end.

“Remarkable.” Ford paced around the colander, unable to see Dipper but aware of where he was. “The machine can read minds, but the helmet is picking up what you say. Please don’t move, I have to record this.” Ford scrambled for his pen, turning to a fresh page in Journal 3, right after Mabel’s last editions. A snow globe filled with stars rattled on the table beside him. He grabbed his pen again and wrote in quick but perfect cursive, each letting looping in and around itself. Handwriting Dipper knew so well. “This is a scientific breakthrough! Do you know where you are?”

_“I’m stuck in the mindscape. I’m basically a ghost, but not quite.”_

“Well, that would explain how the machine can translate what you are saying. It’s hooked up to a person’s individual mindscape and translating it so that Bill can’t read their thoughts. However, it can also translate what you’re saying as well. You said something about no one being able to hear you otherwise?”

_“Yeah, when Bill… did what he did to me I lost my ability to possess a vessel. I can’t communicate with anyone in the real world. I’m stuck here.”_

“It must have been fate then that brought you here just in time for me to turn the machine on then. I’m more than pleased to talk to you. After all, I’ve heard so much about you from Mabel. She of course will be thrilled too. She misses you a lot.”

_“Can I talk to her? Is she here?”_

Ford sighed, “Unfortunately, I sent her out on a mission for me. It will be a couple hours until she returns. But that gives the both of us some time to catch up. We might be on to something big here." 

Dipper paused for a beat. Finally he was with the author. All of his questions could be answered. But that wasn’t what he wanted anymore. _“I want to talk to Grunkle Stan. If that’s alright? I need him to know that I’m okay.”_

Ford was silent for a moment, thinking about it. “Of course, Dipper.  Don’t move from where you are. I’ll be right back.”

 

\-----

 

Ford barreled out of the elevator and into the gift shop. This was the most important scientific discovery of his life. He broke the dimensional barrier, communing with the dead. At this rate… yes. It would be very possible to make this work. Mabel would be so excited, especially after how downtrodden she was that morning. To think all the papers he could publish, the studies of the mindscape he could conduct. This could change the world. This could change the mindscape.

“Stanley!” He bolted into living room past the EMPLOYEES ONLY sign nailed to it. “Stanley, come quick. I need you downstairs.”

Stan sat in his chair, drinking from a can of Pitt Cola. He didn’t make any eye contact. “I’m sorry. Did I hear you say you _needed_ me for something? Well, I’d hate to break it to you but I am done cleaning up your messes.”

Ford groaned. “No, Stanley, it’s-”

“So you don’t actually need me? Just wasting my time?”

“Listen to me!” Ford snapped, grabbing Stan by the fabric of his shirt. That made him look over. “I’ve made contact with Dipper, Stan. He’s here. He wants to speak with you.”

“What? How did you do--”

“There’s no time to explain. Just come with me now. Who knows how long this will last.”

They darted through the house, paying no mind to if objects stood in their way or how steep the stairs to the hidden elevator were. Ford watched his brother’s face. When he first arrived back in dimension 47’\ he thought Stan hadn’t grown up at all in the past 30 years. He made a living by scamming others and never caring about anyone else. But then there was the way he looked at Mabel, and the way he looked now. Something mature and refined. Ford could see just how much the kids meant to him. How much Stan grew up in those years. How he came to care for other people. 

Stan stepped out of the elevator before it had even fully opened. “Kid,” he near-shouted into the room of old paintings covered by sheets and layers of dust. “Where are you?”

The screen flushed to life, words and binary code streaming across it. _“Grunkle Stan!”_

“Dipper,” Stan hesitated a moment, slinking towards the screen. “Are you in that TV?”

Dipper nodded, smile stretching across his face. _“Yeah,”_ he whispered. And though it wasn’t real, Dipper could feel his swell with warmth and his face grow hot. _“Well, no. But that weird pasta strainer picks up whatever I’m saying. I’ve actually been here the whole time. I’ve been keeping up with you. And Mabel, she writes in the Journal and leaves it open at night for me to read.”_

Stan paused for a moment and then laughed from the base of his lungs. “Hot Belgium Waffles.” Dipper watched his face turn red, first from joy and then to grief. Stan balled his hands into two strong fists and looked away, trying to hide the fact that he was crying. “I’m so sorry, Dipper. Ford’s right. This is my fault. I should have done a better job taking care of you.”

Dipper stopped and looked down at Stan from where he was floating. He didn’t know how to feel, if there was any emotion in the human psyche that would describe watching someone grieve over your death. Not anger, not pity, not grief, not loneliness. This was a reconciliation with himself, the moment he was able to say, _“This isn’t anyone’s fault. Not yours, not Mabel’s, not mine. This is because of Bill and no one else.”_ Dipper had spent so long trying to figure out who to blame. To figure out the reason for his death. But there was no reason. Bill was a creature of lawless chaos. He did it because he could… right?

“Dipper,” Ford spoke up amidst the silence Dipper wasn’t even aware of. “When was the last time you saw Bill? Has he been lurking around the mindscape?”

Dipper didn’t want to talk about it. He had almost shoved the memory of the nightmare realm into the back of his mind, but now it was pried back up against willingly. He counted 1-2-3-4-5 over and over in his head until he felt grounded enough to speak. _“When the Portal went off, I got sucked into it. I saw Bill, in this dimension of nightmares. He told me that he was coming back. That things were about to change. And I would have a front row seat to the chaos. I escaped when I got knocked into a wormhole. I don’t remember much after that, other than that I came back through the Portal. It felt like only a few minutes passed but when I came back it had been hours.”_  He hadn’t realized he had been gripping to the hem of his vest, fingers phasing through his own body.

“This is worse than I suspected,” Ford muttered to himself. “We have to prepare ourselves for Bill’s next move. Would you have any idea what it is?”

 _“No,”_ Dipper bit the bottom of his lip. He couldn’t get George Washington out of his head. _“But I was warned by… someone, that it was the end of days. ‘All bad things come in threes and watches from within the trees’. I don’t know what any of that meant, but I believe him.”_

Stan shook his head and blotted his eyes with the back of his sleeve, pretending like he was trying not to cry. “That triangle guy that Mabel was telling about? The guy who killed you. He’s coming back?”

_“Yes. He’s planning something big too. All things eventually end… or something like that.”_

Ford slammed his hand on the table next to his Journal. “We won’t let it happen. We still have the upper hand on Bill,” he tapped the snow globe next to him with the top of his pen. “The interdimensional rift would completely eradicate the mindscape and give a direct line to Bill’s chaos. As long as he doesn’t get his hands on this, he’s stuck.” Ford looked between the rift and the screen, static crawling on its screen with anticipation. “In fact, that might be the key.”

Stan peered over Ford’s shoulder, arms crossed, unimpressed. “Key to what, Sixer?”

“If Project Mentum can act as a medium between the mindscape and the real world, then maybe I can use the interdimensional rift to power it.” He took a moment to run the numbers in his head. “It would be hard, potentially dangerous, but feasible.”

 _“What’s feasible?”_ Dipper asked.

“And dangerous,” Stan added.

“Dipper,” Ford smiled at him, even though Ford couldn’t actually see him. “I think I found a way to bring you home to Mabel.”

There was so much that Dipper wanted to say. His thoughts scrambled in his head, buzzing by like bees. All he hoped for was a moment. A minute. And though it felt so unreal, so far away. It was there, at the edge of his finger times. The machine rang out with only one word. _“Home.”_

 

\------

 

“Wow,” Stan muttered, rubbing at the nap of his neck. “I can’t believe all this stuff has been happening to you and we had no idea. Who’s the guy you said you were with? Mudsocks or whatever?” Ford had pulled up some old crates for Stan to sit on while the 3 of them talked. It was mostly Dipper. There was just so much he wanted to talk about, ask about. Stan was patient to listen. Ford wrote down everything Dipper said, making additions and changes to the Journal, but also occasionally adding in his own bits of the story. Things about Bill. Answering Dipper’s questions about Gravity Falls. Long discussions about _Dungeons, Dungeons, & More Dungeons _.

Oddly enough, it was the first time Dipper felt that anyone was paying attention to him. He wasn’t being treated like a little kid anymore. They were trying to make him happy. Listening to what he had to say and believing him. Though he knew it was only they were only doing it because they felt bad, because they didn’t know if this would be the last time they ever spoke. No one wanted to say no to a dead boy.

But mostly, Dipper was holding out, waiting for Mabel. As much as he loved hearing Stan tell bad jokes, and finally… _finally_ meeting the author of the Journals, he had to see Mabel. If Bill was coming, and Bill was in fact going to come one way or another, he wanted to speak to her again.

 _“Modoc.”_ Dipper sighed at stared at the screen, watching his words spill across it and his voice echo back. _“He’s probably really angry that I left and haven’t come back yet. He’s pretty serious about us always sticking together.”_

“Pfft,” Stan crossed his arms and leaned back. “What does it matter to him? He can’t babysit you for an eternity.”

 _“He’s not babysitting me he’s just… protective is all.”_ Dipper didn’t really believe what he was saying.

The elevator pinged, and the door slid open. Mabel walked into the study, face covered in thick, shimmering, rainbow goo. A drop of it rolled down her cheek as she rubbed it away with her shoulder. Her breath rolled in heavy, painful huffs. Mabel squeezed the unicorn hair in her hand until her nails dug into her palm. “I’ve got your hair, Grunkle Ford. Funny thing about those unicorns--”

 _“Mabel!”_ If Dipper’s heart were still beating, it would have been racing.

Stan and Ford grinned, and Dipper was able to note for the first time how much they looked alike. “Good news for you, kiddo,” Stan said, rising off of the crates he sat on.

Mabel cocked her head at the screen, staring at the static that buzzed around its green hue. “Why is that TV talking to me? Did you guys build a really cool robot?”

 _“No, Mabel. It’s me. It’s Dipper!”_ He couldn’t stop smiling. And he was trying so hard not to throw his head back and laugh with joy. She heard him. She finally heard him. No more screaming in desperation. No more yelling at the vast and nearly empty mindscape about how alone it felt.

She took a step forward, shoes barely making a sound on the concrete floor. “Dipper?”

Ford spun around in his chair. “He’s really here, Mabel. This machine can translate everything he says into our world.” He pointed towards a wooden stool with a weird looking pasta strainer on it. “That’s where he is.”

Stan placed a hand on her back, and pushed her forward. “Go on.”  

Mabel stared at it, all of these emotions rising up in her throat. Her hesitation. Her guilt. Her anger. Her loneliness. Her confusion. All of it. Her arms shook like bare tree branches in the wind. She wiped the hair out of her face, unicorn blood streaked through it. And she stared at the empty space over the helmet. Tears dribbled off her eyelashes. She pressed her feet onto the bar of at the foot of the stool and lifted herself upwards, knowing somehow that she would be face to face with him. “Mystery twins?”

Dipper leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers, though he phased through. _“Mystery twins.”_

And the place where his forehead meet hers felt out of touch, there was no temperature there, no texture. But a feeling that they were close. A string that tugged in Mabel’s chest. The twins never had ESP or a supernatural connection, but in that moment, Mabel knew in the vibrations of her soul that her brother was beside her.

“You’ve been reading my letters, right? I’ve been leaving the Journal out for you.” She sniffed, trying to hold her balance on the stool as not to move away from where he was.

His laugh was soft curl in the static of the machine. _“Every night. Over and over until I have it memorized.”_

He loved her smile. Hidden behind the blushing cheeks and crystal eyes, it pulled her mouth into a crescent moon still shining in the morning after a long night. If Dipper could make Mabel smile like that everyday, nothing else would matter. "I miss you so much," she cooed, sniffling as she spoke. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words he heard weren’t his.

 _“Dipper! What are you doing here. I’ve told you for the last time to stay away from this house and to stay away from these people.”_ Modoc phased though the elevator, back straight, headdress tall on his head. The rope, made from the strands of interdimensional dust bunnies, draped over his shoulder.

 _“Modoc! You won’t believe it, but I found a way to communicate with the living. They can help us get back!”_ When he spoke the words passed through the machine, making Mabel reel back in confusion.

Modoc shook his head, letting the rope slip off his shoulder and into his hand. _“Oh Dipper…”_ He pulled Dipper forward by his shoulder, easing him away from the frequency of Project Mentum.

_“I know it will be weird for you, coming back to life after 1,000 years. But I can show you all the cool stuff like playing video games and riding in cars. You've never tasted potato chips before!"_

_“You have directly disobeyed me for the last time. You’ve entered my dimension and you are going to stay here forever.”_

Dipper felt his words get caught. _“What?”_

Modoc gripped him by the back of his shirt and tugged him close. Unravelling the rope, he tied it around Dipper’s arms and chest. Breaking against the rope, Dipper reached for the machine, _“Mabel!”_ His fingers barely brushed through the helmet, making it spit out the distorted and static filled words. The rope bound against his hands, yanking him away from it.

Mabel’s eyes went wide, brown irises reflecting back the screen. “Dip! What’s going on?”

Modoc tied the rope at his wrists, and again at his feet until Dipper felt like a fly caught in a spider’s web. He writhed against it, but the harder he tried escape, the tighter Modoc pulled on his restraints. It rubbed against his skin without any sensation yet he could feel it constricting him in further and further. _“Modoc, please! Don’t do this!”_

 _“I’m doing this for your own good. Do you really want to go back to that wretched world? It is doomed to die and if you go back there you will die again. I refuse to let anything happen to you."_ Modoc flew up to the helmet, mouth a straight line but eyes boring into it like shovels into hard dirt. _“I am ending this, once and for all.”_ He held one hand over it, and concentrated. The screen crawled with letters and numbers that passed so quickly Dipper couldn’t even begin to figure them out.

The machine screeched, and whirred, a painful white noise that tore at Mabel’s ears. “What is it doing?” she yelled.

“Something is causing it to overload. It can’t keep up.” Ford pried at the wires, trying to unhook Project Mentum before--

The helmet went up in smoke, the screen fluttered out of life. Modoc lowered his hand, walking away with a casual disinterest.

 _“No! Mabel!”_ Dipper screamed as loud as his voice would allow. It was gone. It was gone. His last chance to come back. His last chance to speak to her. His last chance just to say goodbye.

 _“Why do you cry for her?”_ Modoc yanked his head back by his collar. _“Do you forget the truth? It was by your sister’s hand that you ended up here with me. Her carelessness caused your death. I saw the whole thing! You sacrifice everything for your sister, when was the last time she sacrificed something for you? She does not care about you. She does not love you."_

Mabel dropped to her knees, grasping at her breath. “Dipper? Are you still here? Dipper!” Stan grabbed her under her arms and pulled her away from the smoking and tangled mess of machinery.

 _“No, no! It’s not her fault. Mabel! Mab--”_ the rope caught in his mouth. He couldn’t taste it, or feel how dry it was. But it turned all of his words into muffled screams for his twin sister, knowing full well she would never hear him again.

 _“We are leaving Gravity Falls,”_ Modoc leaned in, so that Dipper could see all the details of his face. His hard black eyes, the translucent sheen to his brown skin. _“And we are never coming back.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the first chapter of the fic I had thought out completely. When I first got the idea, I wanted to talk it over with a friend of mine. I explained the concept and then said that I wanted project mentum to be the sort of "bridge" between the two worlds, as it seems to be in the show. It would be the first time Dipper and Mabel have any direct dialogue in the whole fic. And then my friend replied, "Okay so if Dipper and Mabel can talk to each other, what drives the plot forward from there?" I thought about it. Maybe they could work together to make things right--but felt too easy. I considered just flipping Mabel's role for Dipper's in the show, and having her hit project mentum with the memory gun, driving them apart again-- but then who would get the unicorn hair? What if the machine just broke-- but broken things can be fixed, there would be nothing at stake.  
> Then I asked her "What if this Modoc guy wasn't always a nice person? What if he's the divider?" Originally, he was an awesome guy. But then I realized that wouldn't help move a plot along. He's got a lot of his own pent up anger, and it would be much more interesting to watch him ruin things for Dipper even if his intentions are good. By taking Dipper from Gravity Falls, he makes the problem much bigger and the stakes much higher.


	16. Dipper and Mabel vs The Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something hasn't been right with Mabel since it happened. Now that's she's made contact with Dipper, she'll do anything to get him back again, including entering into a UFO to patch the interdimensional rift. But Dipper has been held captive by Modoc, who is will go to any lengths to make sure they leave Gravity Falls and that Dipper never makes contact with the living world again.

**Are you still here?**

**Mabel**

 

She finished the last of her letter and heaved out all of her breath until her lungs felt tight. She stared at Stan from across the kitchen table, though he seemed too caught up in his newspaper to notice. After the machine broke, Ford insisted that they lay the unicorn hair down immediately, creating a mystical bubble full of strange symbols that covered the Mystery Shack. He said that protecting themselves from Bill was the first and most important step.

But to Mabel fixing Project Mentum was the most important thing. Who cared about Bill? She wanted to know what happened to Dipper. She heard him scream her name in fear. He was in trouble and had no one to help him. Ford told her that if he combined the power of the interdimensional rift with Project Mentum, it might have the ability to pull Dipper out of the mindscape. She had to get him out before it was too late. Besides, she stared at the date on Stan’s newspaper. It was almost 1 week until her 13th birthday, and the end of her summer.

They were running out of time.

Stan set down his newspaper, and sighed. “Still hung up on this? Aren’t ya' kid?”

“Blarg! Just when I finally get to talk to Dipper-- BOOM! Everything blew up in my face! Literally! The future is coming for me, and it’s like quicksand. Unforgiving, brother-stealing quicksand.” She shoved her head into her arms, rattling the cup of orange juice next to her. “Last night, Ford said there was a problem with our plan and sent me to bed. He didn’t even tell me what it was!”

Stan shrugged, “Ahhh, listen to him. Ford drags everybody down into his mistakes. Let him keep this one to himself. We’ll go off and do our own thing. How aboutta road trip? I’ve got an RV, we can get away from this weird town for awhile. Just you, and me, and Soos livin’ it up!”

“Thanks, but I’m not in the mood. It wouldn’t be the same without Dipper.”

“Well...what about a birthday party? Huh? It’s the big 1-3 for you. We can rent a space, invite all your friends. Heck--we’ll invite the whole town! Everyone would come.”

“Definitely not in the mood for that.” Come to think of it, she wasn’t in the mood for anything anymore. Everything in her life felt like a one-tone, static hum. She even rejected the offer of dunking waffles in ice cream for breakfast. She wasn't really hungry anyway, despite not even touching her dinner. The thought of eating just made her feel sick. She was just surprised she woke up and got dressed instead of trying to sleep her memories away. 

Taking off his glasses, Stan rubbed his hands over his face. “Alright. I’m worried about you, Mabel. You love parties and tiny houses with wheels. Something isn’t right with you. We gotta have a talk. I know what you’re going through personally, but from experience I can tell you that this isn’t--”

The house rumbled, making Mabel grip to the sides of the table. Ford’s voice cut through their conversation. “Mabel, my face is on fire!”

Mabel turned giving Stan a half-hearted smile. “Just a sec!” She ran off towards Ford’s bedroom, the one she and Dipper had fought over just 2 months before hand. “We can have your talk later!”

Stan groaned, staring at Mabel’s mostly uneaten breakfast. “She’s gonna be 6 feet under with him if she keeps this up.”

Mabel darted into the (once-hidden) room that Ford started calling a bedroom. “Grunkle Ford! Are you still on fire? I’ll save you with my spit!"

Patting off his smoking face with a towel, Ford chuckled and shook his head. “No, no. I’m fine. I just said that to make sure you’d come in here quickly.”

She watched the smoke rise from his chin. “But your face really is on fire?”

“Yes. It’s much faster than shaving. Now listen, Mabel. We have a very important mission, you are the only one who can help me.” He dropped down to one knee in front of her. “I’m sorry I sent you away last night. I needed time to think through this problem but,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out the interdimensional rift. “It’s cracking. This is what Bill has been waiting for. If it breaks, it will cause reality as we know it to completely unravel. A hypothetical and catastrophic event I call Weirdmageddon.” Mabel leaned over it. The crack on the top glistened like a shard of seaglass hidden in the California sand. It was tiny, smaller than her pinky. But when she blinked, it seemed to grow like vines. Ford gestured to a chalkboard behind him, detailing each fine point of the world breaking and cracking. All theories of Bill’s potential chaos in stark white lines. “Bill is out there, and he'd use any trick, from deception to outright possession, to make this happen. But for the sake of humanity, we mustn't let it.”

“But… if we seal it up, then what? Don't we need that to save Dipper?"

“We do,” Ford put a hand on her shoulder. “That’s why keeping it safe is the most important thing. We need it to save your brother, to protect the world, but also to make sure he is the last person to ever be tricked by Bill.”

She straightened her spine to look at Ford directly. Dipper would be the last one. She owed it to him to make sure Bill never possessed anyone ever again. “What do we do?”

“We patch the rift. I’ll explain on the way. Grab a backpack.”

 

\------

 

The bottoms of her feet and ankles ached as she followed Ford up a large hill. The day felt hot against her cheeks and under her sweater, the sun baking her to a crisp. Ford stopped at the front of the cliffs, weirdly floating. That place where she and Dipper fought of Gideon and saved the Mystery Shack. She could still feel his body next to hers, as she held to her grappling hook.  And she remembered how he opened his eyes and saw her, and that laughter of relief they shared.

Ford gestured for her to stand by him, air tousling their hair and whipping their clothes. He braced his foot on the edge of a rock, posing in that funny way Dipper liked to. The way heroes stood in movie posters and comic books. “Listen, Mabel. In order to seal the rift for good, it's going to take an adhesive stronger than anything on earth. Something...extraterrestrial in origin.”

She pulled up to his side, hands gripping the straps of her backpack.“Extra? What do you mean?”

“Look at the peculiar shape made by those cliffs. Does it remind you of anything?”

Yeah. It did.

Ford jingled his keys in front of her face. Wrapped one arm around her shoulder he pulled her to his side, letting one of his keychains fall in front of her. It was the same shape as the gorge in the cliffs. Round, with a disc surrounding it. The one from the gift shop that Dipper liked to play with because it was shaped like a… she gasped. “Aliens? Shut up!”

“According to my research, the entire valley of Gravity Falls was formed when an extraterrestrial object crash-landed here millions of years ago. Did this craft cause the town's strange properties? Or, did the town's strange properties attract the craft? The answer is still unknown.”

“That’s cray-cray! So where did the spaceship go? Are some of the people in Gravity Falls aliens? My money is on Toby Determined. He's definitely not human.”

“No, no. But sometimes the strangest things in the world are right under our noses.” He pushed the rock away with his foot, revealing a metal door underneath it. “And our feet, in this particular instance.” Reaching behind his coat, he pulled out a rounded gun and aimed it at the ground.  “Now you might wanna stand back. This magnet gun can rip the fillings out of a man's mouth from 100 feet.”

Mabel covered her mouth and stepped back, watching as Ford used the magnetic pulse of the gun to pry open the hatch to the alien spaceship. “Woah. Are we going in there?”

“You bet. Don't worry, I've been down here countless times; all the aliens have been dead for millions of years,” he dropped down the hole and grabbed the ladder. “Probably.”

“I’ll take that chance!” She scurried down the ladder after him.

 

\-------

 

Modoc pulled Dipper by the loose end of the rope that wrapped itself up around his hands, across his chest, and choking his mouth. It didn’t matter how hard he pulled, how far he pushed his in-human boundaries, the rope never budged. But that didn’t stop him from trying, from screaming and pulling.

The town border loomed closer and closer. Sometimes Dipper would tug hard enough that he would pull Modoc in the opposite direction, but most of the time Modoc would yank on the rope and pull him along. It was an endless game, sometimes backwards and sometimes forwards. And that was the thing. They could do it forever without getting tired. And if forever it was it took, that’s what it would be.

Flying multiple feet up in the air, Dipper used all he had ever practiced in the mindscape to fight back, and catapulted himself back down again. But like everything else he tried, it was of little use.

Modoc turned, completely unphased by Dipper’s latest attempt to escape. _“Will you stop putting up such a fuss? You wear my patience thin. If you stop struggling this will be easier on both of us!”_

Dipper tried to wiggle his arms free for the 100th time. When he yelled, the words got caught in the rope and changed into muffled and indecipherable noises. _“Aaay ar ooo oig es?”_

Modoc rolled his eyes. _“If I removed the gag will you promise to be more complacent for once?”_

Dipper didn’t answer. He just glared with sharp, dark eyes.

 _“I’m sure I’ll regret this.”_ With careful hands, although knowing that nothing he could do would hurt Dipper, he removed the strand of rope that clenched between his teeth.

Not even taking a beat to enjoy a moment of near-freedom, Dipper snapped. _“Why are you doing this? Just let me go home! Please!”_

 _“You are pitifully naive, Dipper,”_ he spat. _“What will you do if you go back? Hmmm? Your life is not yours anymore. It’s gone. There is a reason zombie curses only raise thoughtless corpses, why I have been stuck here so long. We are not meant to go back.  And why would you want to go back? It is the world where your sister let you fall from the top of a water tower and die. A world where your uncle lied to you about your family history and you paid the price. And it is a world that will fall to Cipher’s power.”_

 _“But it’s also full of everything I ever cared about!”_ When Dipper shouted, he felt his words reverberate through his body. Modoc was right. The real world was full of terrible things. It would only beat him down more and more. But it was still the world where he had his first crush on a red haired girl. Where a grumpy old man taught him how to throw a punch. And where a little girl in an oversized sweater and pine tree hat was waiting for him. _“Maybe these are the people who abandoned me when I needed them. Maybe I am wrong for still trusting them. But who would I be if I did the same thing to them?”_

Modoc shook his head, _“Oh my boy, you must realize we cannot save everyone.”_ Modoc wrapped the rope around his hand and continued to drag Dipper across the mindscape.

 

\------

 

“This is their storage facility. This place would've been heavily guarded, but now everything's defunct. Go ahead, flip any switch. They've all been busted for millions of years.” Mabel and Ford passed over a glowing blue light that casted across the floor. Their voices echoed against the vast sheets of metal. Mildew crawled up the walls.  There was a pretty neat looking alien skeleton nearby--those silly aliens were probably setting up for Halloween or something. “The glue should be around here somewhere, so keep your eyes peeled.”

“Oh, they’re peeled. I am totally focused on finding this glue.” Uhm… what was this glue supposed to look like? Ford began to search through stacks of hexagonal metal plates. Mabel followed through, picking up one after the other and staring at them. Find the glue, patch the rift, save her brother. That was all she could think about. For awhile it was the same old thing. Even being in an alien spaceship couldn't get her truly excited. Because when she saw herself reflected in the dim surveillance screens, she saw Dipper. Everywhere she went that pine tree hat kept looming over her.

Ford's voice cut through the emptiness. “Mabel, have you thought much about your future?”

She stopped, spine rigid. She set down of of the plates, and refused to look at him. She wasn't even thinking about tomorrow. Let alone something years away. “No, not really. I mean, I’ve thought about high school, trying to meet cute boys, and school dances. I’ve always imagined high school to be some kind of musical. Those awkward teenage years. But I haven’t thought much about growing up.”

“How come? You strike me as someone who would want to have her own life planned out.”

“Dipper was the one who thought about his future." She kept staring at her reflection. She looked a lot like him. If she tucked her hair up into the hat, you wouldn't be able to tell who was who. "He wanted to have his own ghost hunting show. I didn’t think much about what I wanted. I always expected that wherever we went, we’d go together. Now, it’s just me. I don’t know what to do without him. I don’t know what I’d do in college, or if I’d even go. I don’t even know what I’m going to do in 8th grade without him. Honestly, I don’t want to go back home. I’m in no hurry to start that train wreck.”

“If you’d be miserable without your brother, why go back there at all?”

She shrugged, and continued to grab the plates one by one, but never actually checking them for glue. “Trust me. I’d love to never go back to Piedmont. But I don’t have a choice.”

Ford tapped the bottom of his chin and smiled. “Mabel, I've been thinking. I'm getting too old to investigate Gravity Falls on my own. I need to train an apprentice to help me fight monsters, solve mysteries, and protect this town. And I think I'd--I'd like to keep it in the family.”

A metal plate slipped from her fingers and clattered against the ground, a clamoring of metal on metal. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I've read your additions to my Journal and I'm impressed with your potential." He pulled Journal 3 out from inside his coat, reminding her of everything she did that summer. "What would you say to staying in Gravity Falls after the summer ends and becoming my apprentice?”

She turned to him. “But what about school? And Mom and Dad? They’ve had to spend all summer grieving without me.”

“I have 12 PhDs. Your parents would be thrilled I could give you such an advanced education. I’m sure they’d only want what’s best for you. And going back to California would only make you feel worse. If you stay here with me, we can continue my research. We can bring Dipper back. We can do incredible things together.”  

“I don’t know. I feel all sick and twisty inside to think about not going home. I really miss my Mom and Dad. I just want things to feel normal again.”

“Mabel,” Ford kneeled in front of her. Bracing the bridge of the pine tree hat, he pushed it up just enough that her brown eyes sparkled in the glow of blue lights. “Look around you. Think of where you are and how you got here. How many 12-year-olds do the things you do? Fight ghosts, steal love potions, travel through time? Normal is far behind us. This town is a magnet for things that are special. And that includes you and me. It brought both of us here for a purpose! Stay here with me. Become my apprentice.”

Mabel chewed on the inside of her lip. Maybe Ford was right, maybe it was time to leave normal behind. Maybe it was time to stay in Gravity Falls forever. Ford was the only person who could give her what she was looking for. Maybe he could help her be happy again. She wrapped her hand around his 6 fingers. She smiled bigger than her face would allow. “I’ll do it; I’m gonna stay.”

He squeezed her hand back, “Excellent.”

 

\-----

 

Ford ran through the front door of the Mystery Shack with Mabel braced on his shoulders. She threw both fists into the air and laughed. “We showed those aliens! They’re never mess with the Pines family again.” Her backpack pounded against her spine, interdimensional rift tucked safely away inside with the alien adhesive.

Reaching up, Ford lifted his niece off of his shoulder and set her to the floor. “You were very brave, my girl. It takes a lot of control to stand up to a prison droid for the first time and not show any signs of fear! You’re a natural.”

“Yeah! I’m a natural!”

“Natural at what?” Stan leaned in from his chair in the living room, eying Mabel up and down. “And where have you two been all day? You up and left in the middle of breakfast.”

Running up to Stan, Mabel crawled her way onto the arm of the chair, kicking her legs up and down. “We had to get some glue from these aliens to fix the interdimensional rift. But we activated their security system. It can smell fear! But I was like ‘Not today aliens!’ And Ford and I got really serious, and then they fell apart, and we escaped!” She took a long deep breath. “It was the best day I’ve had in a long time.”

Stan’s smile looked half-hearted as he watched Ford lean against the wall and nod. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m happy to hear you had a good day, pumpkin. But remember that talk I told you we need to have?”

“But that’s not the best part,” she took him by the arm, bouncing up and down. “I’m gonna stay in Gravity Falls with Ford to be his apprentice! I’m not going home at the end of the summer. Isn’t that great news!”

“No.” He answered so quickly, it took Mabel a moment to realize he even spoke.

She chuckled. “I don’t think I heard you right, did you say--”

“No, Mabel.”

“Wait, what?” She looked at Ford, as he stepped up behind her.

“I’m against it," Stan said. “I know I'm not one to talk but you do have to go home and pick up your life again. You need to be back with your parents. You can't stop your life. I wanted you to stay here for the summer so I could help you move on. You shouldn’t be thinking about being some nerdy old man’s apprentice. You should be playing with your friends and planning for your 13th birthday.”

“Stanley,” Ford grumbled. “Might we talk about this like adults?”

“No way.” Stan rose up out of his chair and stared his brother in the eye. “Talking Mabel into staying here to be your little helper monkey is a terrible idea. She’s a 12-year-old girl! Let her go home and live a normal life. Can’t you see that your obsession is hurting her? She hasn’t been acting like herself and that’s because you’re filling her head with all of this supernatural weirdness.”

“You’re the one who brought her back here in the first place, Stanley," Ford shouted. "If you didn’t want her to have any hope for her future you shouldn’t have done that.” 

“I was only trying to make her feel less alone!”

Mabel stood on the edge of the overstuffed chair and pulled on the sleeve of Stan’s suit. “Stop it! Remember we’re doing this for Dipper! We’re trying to bring him back home!”

She hated the way Stan looked at her. He had never been angry at her before. He looked so tall and imposing, eyes dark behind his glasses. “And what if you do? What if you bring Dipper back? You honestly can’t expect him to go back to Piedmont with you! He wouldn’t be able to go to school, or even out into the town. He’d have to hide in the Shack for the rest of his life. Who knows if he'd even be the same Dipper when he came back? You might not even recognize him as your own brother anymore!” He looked over his shoulder at his twin brother, and for the first time all summer, Mabel noted how different they looked from each other. “In my experience sometimes it’s best to leave people dead.”

“And in my experience it’s best to trust no one!” Ford shouted back.

Mabel felt her heart finally split into two pieces. It was subtle, like when the last least finally falls off a tree. She was willing to pay any price, do anything to bring Dipper back. It was her fault. She killed her own twin brother. There was nothing else in the world that could ease her conscience-- and she was never going to have it.

“You two should be grateful!” The scream made her throat hurt. Her breath didn’t feel satisfactory in her lungs. She gasped and gasped but never felt like she was breathing. But it was consuming. Everything ate at her cells, her thoughts. She was tired of pretending like she wasn’t in great pain. She lost joy in everything. Hanging out with Candy and Grenda felt empty. Watching Ductective didn’t hold her interest anymore. She couldn’t remember the last time knitting a sweater made her feel calm. And everywhere she looked all she saw was blood and Dipper’s dead eyes.

“You both don’t know how good you have it!” She pointed at Stan, huffing for air. Her face was hot, but she wasn’t crying. Crying felt useless. “You should be thankful that your brother is still alive.” Then she pointed at Ford. “And you should be thankful that he cared enough to save you! Because some of us don’t have twin brothers anymore. Some of us were selfish and let out twin brothers die when they needed us most! Some of us really did kill our twins!" 

With that, she jumped off the chair and knocked through the front door. She didn’t want to be anywhere anymore. Not in Piedmont. Not in Gravity Falls. She just wanted to disappear. So she would.

  
“Mabel, sweetie!” Stan yelled. His footsteps pounded on the hardwood floor, but that only made her run faster. She didn't want to see Stan, or Ford, or Soos, or Wendy! She wanted to see Dipper, or nobody at all. 

  
The sun set over Gravity Falls, filling the sky with its blood. The air bit at her cheeks and stung her eyes. Her socks were covered in dirt, and she realized she didn’t change into a new sweater that morning (it was still the pink one with the cupcake on it). She had slept in her clothes again. The contents of her backpack dug into the flesh between her spine and shoulder blades. The wind echoed over and over in her ears, “Your fault. It’s all your fault.” She kept running, knees aching with each pound into the grass. Her chest compressed and compounded, it felt like she was dying. And maybe she would. Maybe she wanted to if it meant she would see him again. 

Her body couldn’t keep up anymore. Her breath kept getting stuck in her throat. A tree root notched itself around her foot, and sent her spiraling into the ground. Her elbows made impact first, then her hands, her knees, her face. The dirt and grass felt cold and dewy on her bare, sweating skin. Her ears rang in the silence, a high pitched whining. She kept reaching out to the grass, expecting to wake up from her nightmare, to feel Dipper there beside her.

Pulling herself up, Mabel pulled her legs up to her chest and tucked her whole body into her sweater. Nothing was real. It was just her, the blackness, and the dry taste of wool. She rocked back on her heels. “This isn’t fair,” she whispered. "I wish summer would last forever." She paused, and bit on her lip until the skin broke and bled. “I wish you were here.”

“That might be possible.” The voice that answered her squeaked and staggered.

“Sweatertown is _not_ accepting incoming calls right now.” Her voice muffled through her sweater.

“M-M-M-Mabel, it's me.”

“What? Who said that?” She poked her head out of her sweater.

“I-I-I can help.” A round man with pretty hair in a camouflage suit walked up to her, goggles obscuring his eyes. His smile was so wide and friendly.

She wiped her eyes. “The time travel guy? What are you doing here?”

“You said you don't want summer to end, right? D-did-did I hear that right?” Blendin asked.

“Yeah... why are you asking?”

  
“Look, it may be against the rules, but I still feel guilty about what I did, so I thought I could help you out. It's called a time bubble, and it prevents time from going forward. Summer in Gravity Falls can last as long as you want it to! You can have your brother back. It can be like nothing ever happened.”

“R-Really? But how does it work?”

“I just need you to get a little gizmo for me from your uncle.” He clicked a button on his wristwatch, making a hologram of the interdimensional rift float in the air. “Just give it to me and I’ll take care of it.”

Mabel fumbled through her backpack, past the adhesive, duct tape, glitter. A globe filled with a floating galaxy, swirling stars and blurred colors, her face reflected in it. It made her look like she was made of stars. She stood up, holding her last shred of hope in her hands. It was so fragile. Just like everything else.

“Yes, that's it! Just hand it over and I'll do my thing. Unless you're ready to leave Gravity Falls.” Blendin urged her forwards. He held his hands out for her.

Her fingers pressed into its sides, leaving little indents in her skin. She looked so much like him, in the reflection of the stars, wearing his hat. “Dipper,” the word escaped her. And then she held it out. She didn't want to live in a dimension where he wasn't. “Take it. Bring him back.”

Blendin grinned, easing it out of her hands. “Whoops.” Then he dropped it, glass smashing into a kaleidoscope of shards. He stomped on it, making the galaxy inside slosh and clump with the dirt. From it, the sky opened up. A cross of multicolored swirls breaking into the clouds, a tear-- no, a rift.

“What! No!” Mabel dropped to her knees, trying to scoop it back up, but the galaxy inside wouldn’t make contact with her hands, and the glass dug into her raw skin. She had to put it back. Blendin laughed, perhaps at her, perhaps at something much greater. And she knew that laugh. He took off his goggles, revealing the yellow slit eyes underneath. “No,” she cried. “Bill! Not again. No… no…”

She looked at the blood on her hands and back up at him. Those horrible eyes. So he had come for her, the world. It was time she paid her price. He snapped his fingers. Mabel felt her world swirl and darken, the light passing out of her. She fumbled to hold still, but her vision tunneled, and she barely whispered one more word. “Dipper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhggg okay, so figuring what to do with the security drones was so annoying that I literally avoided it. They weren't important to the plot of the story I was telling. You also probably noticed I left out Roadside Attraction. Considering it is my least favorite episode, I took a creative liberty to avoid that too-- though I gave it a shoutout! 
> 
> And shout out to past me for putting Mabel at her literal lowest point; on her knees with actual blood on her hands and Bill hovering over her. The physical rock bottom of her emotional spiral. She believes she is responsible for Dipper's death, and the symbolism plays alongside her thoughts.


	17. Welcome Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as Modoc is about to take Dipper out of Gravity Falls Weirdmaggedon changes their plans...

Dipper didn’t stop screaming. He knew no one would hear him, but he kept hoping. Someone had to-- a ghost, some interdimensional creature, anyone. Modoc kept insisting they were alone but Dipper knew that wasn’t true anymore. He had been tricked, again. God, when would he stop being so naive? All that time he had spent mulling the words “trust no one” over and over in his head. He couldn’t even follow the best advice he’d ever gotten.

He could see the one road that let out of the town wind through the trees and across the hills and valleys. A sign hammered into the ground read: NOW LEAVING GRAVITY FALLS. The sun fell over the horizon, night in its early stages of setting. He pulled back on the rope with all his strength, he couldn’t leave. _“Stop! Modoc, please! I’m not leaving!”_

_“Can you not see I’m only trying to protect you?”_

_“No! I can’t. How is any of this protecting me?”_

Modoc turned around, his words like fire. _“The further I get you away from Cipher, the safer you are. Do not think the mindscape spares you from any of this wrath. He would take any opportunity to torture you, will you out of existence, anything to keep you out of his way. He knows you would do anything for your family. That is a threat to him. He will be looking for you. If he enters this world it will be impossible to spare your family.”_ Modoc grabbed the rope and pulled Dipper down so they would be forced to stare eye to eye, _“But I can spare you. Whether you want it or not.”_

_“It’s not your decision if I want you to help me or not. If I choose to be vaporized, that’s my call. And for someone who cares so little about if other people live or die, I don’t see why I would matter so much to you. I’m already dead!”_

_“Dipper.”_ Modoc’s face was hard and stern, the ceremonial black markings on his face stark against the translucent sheen of his skin. And he was pretending to breath, simulating the experience of emotion. _“For once, just take a moment to listen to me. You do not understand.”_

Something shot into the sky, a brightly burning darkness. The oncoming thick deep blue clouds of night turned orange and red, like the sky was in a permanent sunrise. And something tore a hole into it, a swell of colors on the other end, and something that smelt like burning hair. The town illuminated, something like glass surrounding it and shining in the hail of light.

Dipper turned, _“Modoc…”_

 _“Look out!”_ Modoc tried to reach for him, but the wave of something strong and pinkish in color rammed into them at full force.

Dipper tumbled downward, but the sensation that overcame him was anything but violent. Instead he felt himself harden, like clay left to bake in the sun. There was something solid or physical to it-- no. There was something real to it. He opened his eyes. The world felt lopsided. The grass brushed against his face. The grass… wait.  

He shot up, the rope that bound his arms together now fraying and unravelling. He ran his fingers over the grass, he could feel it. He wriggled his way out of the rope, pressing his elbows and knees into the dirt and prying free. The rope looped around at his feet as he stood up. Dipper looked at his hands, at his clothes. That translucent sheen to his body was gone. “What?” The otherworldly echo to his voice was gone too. He ran his fingers over his arms, his shirt. He let his hands linger on his chest a moment; still no heartbeat.

Modoc staggered upwards, looking just as confused as Dipper felt. “Impossible.”

“What’s going on?”

Grabbing Dipper by the wrist, Modoc ran towards the Gravity Falls border. “We need to hide, now.” Dipper followed behind, focused mostly on the feeling of his shoes hitting the ground and feeling the force of his body pound though his legs. Arriving at the border, Modoc pulled Dipper beside him, but instead they rammed against it, as if it were glass.

Dipper stumbled backwards, his head spinning for a moment. But now he saw it, how the sky on the other side was blue and clean, while the sky above him raged with dying light. Grabbing a rock, on the ground he tossed it against the barrier, but it passed right through with ease. He placed a hand against it, the barrier returning. “What is this?”

Modoc shook his head, “We are too late. Gravity Falls is a weirdness magnet, drawing things that are strange into it, but now everything strange is trapped inside. This is what I feared.”

“What does that mean? You seem to know more than you let on. Why can we suddenly interact with the real world? Why are we stuck here.” Then he understood. There was nothing else it could have been. “The interdimensional rift. It must have shattered and,” he paused, taking in the full reality of what he was about to say, “eliminated the mindscape. The nightmare realm has blurred with the real world, and we blurred with it.” This was just the beginning, the first step in the end of the world. “Mabel! She might be in danger!”

“No,” grabbing him by the wrist, Modoc pulled him back before he could attempt to leave. He spoke in a whisper. “He’ll be looking for you.”

“I don’t care. Now might be my only opportunity to--” Modoc put a hand over his mouth, making all of his words muffled.

“Shhhh. Who knows what Cipher has released into the world with him. He will have brought friends, an army. We do not know what we are up against. We’re stuck here and we need to take every precaution.”

Dipper pried Modoc’s hand away. “No, I’m done listening to you, man. You think I’m just some dumb kid who you can trick and manipulate to make up for the fact that,” Dipper decided not to bit his tongue, “you’re lonely! Everything you say about the world is malarky! You’re angry because no one remembers you, or cares about what happened to you. You’re sacrifice meant nothing to them. And I’m sorry. But abandoning the whole world and using me to vicariously live out your anger is not right! You’re the one who wasted 1,000 years hating everything instead of trying to do the right thing.”

“If you think I did not spend hundreds of years trying, then you are wrong.” Modoc shouted, voice like thunder, echoing over the hills. He gestured with all of it body, the ends of his traditional shawl caught in the wind. “I tried to stop Cipher. I tried to re-enter the real world. But there was nothing I could do. There was nothing I could do to stop your Great Uncle from reading the summoning incantations I wrote. Nor was there anything I could do to save you, just a child who inherited my war. Yes, I wanted to shield you from all the pain and suffering I endured by removing all emotional bonds to the real world. I wanted to make your transition hurt less than mine. I took my anger and grief out on you. I have done things I am not proud of. But if I can protect you from what I started, then I would have done something right. You are the only thing I cared about in 1,000 years. I am not letting you go!" 

Dipper stared at the ground. “Modoc, I--"

Modoc shushed him again, this time lowering one hand in front of Dipper. “Listen, do you hear that?” All Dipper heard was the ever rising wind, screeching higher and higher, the tear of screams against it. Something rustled in the trees. Dipper turned, but saw nothing. The trees opposite of him rustled again.

A voice broke against the sound barrier, something that sounded like metal clambering against metal. “GUESS WHO?” The shift in the air was notable, tingling the way your foot does when it falls asleep, but Dipper couldn’t tell if it really was the air or just himself.

“Bill…” Dipper's voice lingered like smoke.

“Dipper,” Modoc put his hands on the sides of his face. His eyebrows scrunched together, and he wouldn’t break eye contact. “Remember that wheel I had painted on the cave wall? You need to track down those other symbols, the other people.” Modoc smiled, wrinkles crinkling at the corner of his mouth, and hands hesitant to ease down to his sides. “Now get out of here. Go as fast as you can, stay away from Cipher. Be better than I was. Make me more proud than I already am.”

Dipper shook his head. “What are you--”

Bill cut between the tree, the curve of his eye suggesting a grin. “THERE YOU ARE.”

“Dipper, now!” Modoc pushed him away, refusing to look behind him. He stumbled back, feet catching on a fallen log, and though he expected to fall, he found himself still floating as if nothing had changed. He stared at his mentor, the Native American man wearing a headdress as ritual paint on his face. And he realized how short two months could feel-- for someone who had all of eternity before him, there wasn’t enough time. “Go, Dipper! Save the world!” Modoc commanded.

Dipper dragged himself away, feeling like he had lead tied to his ankles. Though when he felt he was far enough away, he crouched behind the trees and bushes. As Bill drew closer, Dipper closed his eyes, counting over and over in his head 1-2-3-4-5. It wasn’t helping. The nightmare realm had left his memory and became his reality.

Pulling out his cane from seemingly nowhere, Bill hooked the top around Modoc’s back and shoulders, yanking him forward. “WELL, WELL, WELL. IF IT ISN’T MY OLD PROPHET! AFTER ALL THESE YEARS WE MEET AGAIN.”

Modoc pushed the cane out from behind him. “Enough of your games, Cipher! You’ve tormented me for the last time. I know you came here for the boy.”

“AWW COME ON, MODOC.” Bill nudged one long, skinny black into Modoc’s side. “IS IT REALLY THAT STRANGE FOR ME TO PAY MY OLD PAL A VISIT? AFTER ALL, YOU’VE PLAYED A BIG ROLE IN THIS ARMAGEDDON. I WOULDN’T BE HERE WITHOUT YOU PAINTING THOSE INCANTATIONS ON THE WALL.”

Modoc tried to stand tall, though Dipper could see the fear rising up his spine. “That’s enough Cipher. Do what you want with me. I’m not letting you get to Dipper.”

“IT’S A LITTLE LATE FOR HEROICS. I THINK YOU’VE MISSED THE POINT. THIS IS MY DIMENSION NOW. IT’S A PARTY THAT NEVER ENDS WITH A HOST THAT NEVER DIES! EVERYTHING IS ALREADY MINE.”

“No, no it’s not. I know your weakness. They will defeat you.”

Bill adjusted the top of his hat, and closed his eye. “YOU’RE SUCH A DRAMA QUEEN.” He raised one hand, a ball of electric blue light gathering between his fingers. “I’VE REALLY MISSED MESSING AROUND WITH THAT HEAD OF YOURS. TOO BAD I’M GONNA ERASE YOU FROM EXISTENCE. NO OFFENSE, BUT YOU KNOW TOO MUCH.” He pointed one finger at Modoc, and then he let the light go with all of its force.

“No! Modoc!” Dipper yelled over the echo of Bill’s ray. The light burned his eyes, or maybe he wanted to think it did. Maybe he wanted something to hurt. And when the light was gone, so was the prophet. “No… no…” He backed away from the tree, telling himself it was time to fly away but unable to make himself do it. Modoc was just gone.

Bill brushed off his hands and wiggled his bow tie back into place. He glanced directly at Dipper thought the corner of his eye. “PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK, ARE WE PINE TREE? I KNOW YOU’RE HIDING OUT THERE.”

He had to go, he knew he had to go if he wanted to help save them. But he couldn’t stop staring at the charred piece of earth, the smoke rising off the grass. It couldn’t be possible. You can’t just kill someone who is already dead. Except you can destroy them, eradicate their very existence to make it so that it was like they never lived at all.

After all of this time, all those weeks stuck together. Every lesson, every talk, every time Modoc tried to pull him away, it was for fear of this. This was what Modoc was preparing him for.

Bill moved closer into Dipper’s line of sight. “WELCOME BACK, PINE TREE.”

He couldn’t waste another second, he let his feet rise up off the ground, and flew as fast as he could though the trees towards the Shack.

Bill stopped, tapping a finger against his side, letting Dipper escape farther into the forest. “I’LL LET YOU GO FOR NOW. I THINK YOU MIGHT DELIVER EXACTLY WHAT I’M LOOKING FOR…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted Modoc to go out on an ambiguous note. He is surprisingly driven by emotion, though his heart isn't always in the right place. I wanted to leave the reader in a position of asking if he was redeemed or not.


	18. Weridmaggedon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper bumps into Ford on his way to find Mabel, and the two team up to defeat Bill. But how much room is there for heroes in this world?

Dipper scrambled through the forest, barely able to process what had just happened. First, Modoc was gone--just gone. There was no emotion to coincide with that experience. Modoc tried to drag him away from Gravity Falls and everything he loved. But Modoc was also the only person he had for comfort. There were the moments, though few and much too far between, Dipper knew deep down that Modoc cared about him and everything else.  

Second, he wasn’t stuck in the mindscape anymore. He wasn’t sure what had happened to him but at least for the time being he had a physical body to work with. The upside: he could finally talk to Mabel. Hug her. The downside: he didn’t know where Mabel was or if she was okay. And he kept flying into trees. It was a change of pace to remember that he was in a physical body again, and he couldn’t phase through things. Luckily, he still couldn’t feel pain or get hurt either.

Dipper slammed into something else. It definitely wasn’t a tree this time. Much too soft and warm, and smelt like oil. Scrambling back, Dipper prepared himself to fight off whatever it was. Monster, demon, a head that’s always screaming. It was like Modoc said, who knew what Bill brought into the real world with him? 

He rose into the air. This was what Modoc was trying to prepare him for. He had to make it worth it. Lesson one: the more height you have on your opponent, the harder your punches will be. Lesson two: don’t falter when you look down. Lesson three: trust no one.... He stopped, looking down at his supposed opponent.

Ford pushed himself off the ground, backpack hanging off his shoulder. A black case labeled EXPERIMENT 618 was cast into the dirt. He adjusted his glasses and reached behind his coat for his weapon. “Back, you monster, or I’ll blast you back into the dimension you came from.”

Dipper stared and then broke out into a squeal. “It’s the author. Oh my gosh. I mean, I know who you are and we’ve talked for a little bit but I’m finally meeting you and, oh man, I would so be throwing up right now if I could. This is so cool. I mean, the world is ending, that’s not cool, but I can finally meet you face to face and I’m just glad to know you’re okay, Great Uncle Ford.”

Ford eased his hand away from the holster of his gun. “Great Uncle? By Tesla...  you must be Dipper. Of course, when the rift shattered I didn’t even consider that you would be freed from the mindscape when Bill incited Weirdmaggedon.”

He lowered himself onto the ground, bouncing up and down on the tips of his toes. “I know there’s a lot going on right now, but I’m just so glad to see you. Or actually, I’ve seen you a lot. I’m glad that you can see me.” He latched himself around his Great Uncle's waist, a very impromptu hug, squeezing as tight as he could. 

He placed a hand on Dipper’s shoulder, trying to smile as much as someone could during the apocalypse. And Dipper was happy just to take in one second of it, how good it felt to finally be close to a living person. “I’m glad to see you too. It’s nice to finally meet the boy Mabel has gone on and on about. She thinks very highly of you, you know.”

“Mabel! Oh no, she’s probably so scared. Where is she? Is she alright?”

“I’m,” Ford paused. “I’m afraid I don’t know. She ran out of the house, the rift must have shattered inside her backpack.”

“You mean she’s all alone! She could be hurt. Or worse.” Dipper floated into the air again, starting to pace back and forth as if there was a pane of glass beneath his feet. “I need to find her before it’s too late. I can’t lose her too…”

“Dipper,” Ford grabbed him by the back of his vest. “Listen to me. We can find your sister soon, but first we have to stop Bill. If we can blast him back through the rift he came out of, we just might be able to stop him before his weirdness spreads across the entire globe.” He patted the black case.

“Blasting him out? Is that even possible? Bill’s power is infinite! He can do anything. Destroy anyone without even trying! There’s another way! I know there is.” He stared at the forest, the bright orange light of the hellish sky drifting through the pine needles. The wheel… Modoc said something about finding the symbols.

“I know this all seems impossible, Dipper. But if we can stop Bill, then Mabel will be safe. Everything will go back to the way it was.

He bit on the bottom of his lip. “And what about me? This isn’t permanent... is it?”

Ford sighed and shook his head. “I don’t think it would be. If we send Bill back, then I’m afraid you might return to the mindscape too.”

“I understand.”

Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, Ford knelt down by his nephew. “I’m sorry have to deliver such bad news. But being a hero means fighting back even when it seems impossible, even when we don’t want to. I wish I didn’t have to ask so much of you, especially when I am finally getting the opportunity to meet you. But that’s what heroes do. We fight back.” He held out one six fingered had, “Will you follow me?”

“To the ends of the earth.” He was ready. After all, he was the protector of Gravity Falls. The town needed him now more than ever. And if that meant spending the rest of eternity in the mindscape, or being erased from existence by a murderous triangle, so be it. It would all be worth it.

“Good, because that’s where we’re headed.”

 

\------

 

“READY TO CAUSE SOME HAVOC, BOYS?” Bill laughed, the chaos and destruction of downtown burning around him. The Fearamid floated against the horizon. The water tower screeched, now somehow alive and walking. Dipper closed his eyes and tucked himself behind the brick exterior of the bell tower. Bill’s freaks laughed, monster’s Dipper couldn’t even summon up with his imagination. A gangly, green thing with 8 balls for eyes, a set of walking teeth, a creature with… how many was that... 88 different faces?  

The the mindscape was a nightmare, this was hell.

Ford unpacked his case, pulling out a silver gun, longer than the length of his forearm.“Ah, my quantum destabilizer. I've been waiting a long time to use this. We're only gonna have one chance to take this shot.”

Dipper ran over to Ford, standing a few feet behind his Great Uncle. “One shot? Are you sure about this?” Dipper was starting to lose his faith in chance.

Ford set the gun on the edge of the window. “Every shot is worth taking, my boy.” He angled his eye up to the scope. “Steady... steady... and…” his finger edged against the trigger.

Another pinkish wave of Bill’s magic rattled through air, affecting whatever it desired at random. This time it not into the bell, hanging low from the ceiling, giving it a sentient life, a much too cartoony face and voice. It laughed, ringing back and forth, throwing off Ford’s focus.

The gun fired, and missed. The blast shot through Bill’s hat, revealing the mush of flesh and bone and tendon inside. Ford dropped the gun. “Oh no!”

Bill turned, the flesh morphing back together. “WELL, WELL, WELL, AND HERE I THOUGHT TODAY COULDN’T GET ANY BETTER.” Pointing one finger, he fired a beam at the tower.

The bricks exploded, cascading down on top of Dipper and Ford. Dipper rushed to Ford, flying through the wreckage and trying to use his body as a shield. The bell shattered into pieces, hunks of brick and metal clattered on top of him, some scraping his skin, others puncturing their way through, but nothing actually harming him. It was like he was still a ghost.

Ford coughed, most of his body trapped under the wreckage. “Dipper! Take my journals!” he slid the backpack to him, smearing the dust below it. “Listen, I know of one other way to defeat-”

“The symbols, right? What does that even mean?”

“Oh, no! Dipper! Run! Get down!”

Bill’s shadow hovered over them, as Dipper flew into the hollow space of the staircase. He pressed his back so far into the wall until he was only covered in shadows. “No… no… not Ford too. What am I gonna do? I can’t take Bill all by myself. I can’t. I can’t.”

“GOOD OLD SIX FINGERS. I’VE BEEN WAITING AN ETERNITY TO HAVE A CHAT FACE TO FACE.”

“Six fingers,” Dipper muttered. Pine tree. Six fingers. He instinctively put one hand on his hat. The symbols. They were people! People who could help him defeat Bill. And now Ford was captured. What were the other symbols? Pine tree… six fingers… shooting star… question mark? He couldn’t remember! How was he supposed to find all of them if he couldn’t even remember what they all were?

He flew down the stairs, etching out into the ruins of the streets, hearing Bill and Ford’s voices echo behind him. The Journals. The symbols would all be in the Journals. He dug through the backpack, pulling out one after the other. Ford must’ve drawn the wheel somewhere. If he could just get that page he had a fighting chance.

Get the page. Save Ford.

He thought it would be easy. Then he looked behind the remains of the bell tower. Ford screamed, falling to the ground, now made of solid gold.

“No!” Another symbol gone. He barely knew Ford and now he was gone too. Modoc, Ford, and Mabel… oh please not Mabel. Please let her be safe. He slashed from one Journal page to another. “Come on. Come on. I just need to know what these symbols do and then I can--”

A shadow drifted over him. Dipper froze in his place. A black hand came out from behind him, fingers wrapping around his legs and chest. The Journals dropped out of his hand, falling into the ground. “WELL ISN’T THIS INTERESTING! I KNEW YOU’D COME BACK AND THAT YOU’D BRING SIX FINGERS WITH YOU.” Dipper squirmed and pulled, punching at Bill’s hand knowing full and well that Bill would never let go. “AND I’LL TAKE THESE TOO. IT’S ABOUT TIME I FINISH THE JOB.”

The Journals levitated off the ground, right up to his line of sight. And Dipper saw himself reflected their gold six fingered hands. The first, old and dusty, but well kept. The second, the cover slightly torn and the pages old and brown. And the third, the thing that survived instead of him, charred and falling apart. With a snap of Bill’s fingers, they burned, flames licking and carving through the aged paper. Pages flew out and crumbled into dust, the metal pieces shrinking in under the pressure of the heat.

“No! No!” He reached for the falling pages, unable to reach them. The last of the ashes fell to the ground like the first snow of the season. “You got what you wanted, Bill! The Journals, Ford, Gravity Falls. So spit it out, what are you gonna do to me?”

“RELAX, KID. I’M NOT GONNA HURT YA’. NOT RIGHT NOW, AT LEAST. I HAVE A DEAL FOR YOU.”

“What makes you think I’m dumb enough to take another deal with you?” He writhed and squirmed in Bill's grasp, knowing it would do him no good. 

“OH I THINK I HAVE A COUPLE TRICKS UP MY SLEEVE THAT MIGHT INTEREST YOU. YOU SEE,” Bill leaned back, growing an extra arm to tuck behind his head as if lounging in an imaginary chair, “I’M LOOKING TO EXPAND MY GANG OF FREAKS. AND THANKS TO MY KINDNESS OF ESCORTING YOU INTO THE MINDSCAPE, YOU’D BE A PERFECT FIT.”

“Why would I do that? You’d only trick me into doing your dirty work. I’d rather be with Ford!”

“AHH! YOU DIDN’T LET ME FINISH. I THINK I HAVE SOMEONE WHO MIGHT BE OF VALUE TO YOU.” Raising a hand, Bill flashed an image of a bright pink shooting star.

“Mabel… what are you doing to her?”

“WAY TO ASSUME THE WORST.  LISTEN, YOUR SISTER IS NOT OF THE HIGHEST VALUE TO ME. I’VE JUST BEEN KEEPING HER TUCKED AWAY FOR A SUNNY DAY. BUT SHE REALLY MATTERS TO YOU. SO IF YOU AGREE TO JOIN MY FREAKS, I’LL GIVE HER TO YOU.”

Dipper stopped. He could still save Mabel. If the world was going to end at least he could still save her. Whatever bad thing Bill would make him do… or do to him. It would all be for Mabel. He could see her one last time.

And that was what Modoc was trying to do with him. Save the one good thing that floated helplessly in the sea of terrible evils.

And Modoc was wrong. Being a hero meant fighting back. He could save Mabel. Or he could save the whole world with her.  

He scowled, making sure not to breath, not to blink. “Never.”

Bill dropped him to the ground, sending him into the dust and debris of downtown. “OH PINE TREE, I THOUGHT YOU WOULD HAVE LEARNED NOT TO STAND UP TO ME.” Dipper pushed himself up, and for the first time he was thankful he was dead. It made him pretty resilient.

“And I thought you would have learned not to underestimate me.”

“BE A HERO AS MUCH AS YOU WANT.” He picked Ford up off the ground, waving his golden form in Dipper’s face. “BUT THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO HEROES IN MY WORLD.” He rolled his eye, not even paying Dipper much mind. “8 BALL, TEETH,” he pointed to 2 of the monsters that idly watched, “YOU’VE EARNED A TREAT. HAVE THE KID FOR A SNACK. I’M DONE WITH HIM. EVERYONE ELSE, VIP PARTY AT THE FEARAMID. IT’S GONNA GET WEIRD!”

As Bill preoccupied himself with turning a car into some horrific movie-style racecar, the monster with 8 balls for eyes and the one completely made out of teeth turned to each other, refusing to acknowledge Dipper’s presence.

“So, you wanna eat him or something?” 8 Ball asked.

Teeth wiggled his fingers in anticipation. “Oh, definitely, let’s eat him!”

Dipper sneered, watching as Bill drove away. Good. With Bill preoccupied, he had a chance to go find help. He balled his hands into fists, feeling everything. The anger, the loneliness, the fear, and the hate. “I don’t think so.” Within him, he could feel the full force of the mindscape course through his body. It was like Modoc taught him, the stronger his mind, the stronger he became. “Like I said, Bill needs to stop underestimating me.”

 

\-----

 

Dipper pressed his back against the vinyl siding of an abandoned house. Getting through the town was much more difficult than it should have been, even when you can fly. Bill had monsters scouring the streets, eye ball bats patrolling the air. Finding anywhere to go without getting caught was nearly impossible. He was just lucky he didn’t have to worry about eating, or sleeping… or dying. And the ability to move soundlessly around obstacles was pretty helpful too. But he was really wishing for that invisibility. The minute he decides the mindscape had its perks are the minute they get taken away.

Whatever. At least he could still fly, and he was pretty strong too. It didn’t take him long to take down 8 Ball and Teeth.

Now it was just a question of where everyone was hiding. Had Bill really turned everyone to stone? And where was Mabel? He checked every crevice, every hiding spot big enough for a human. And yet, nothing. Any living person he did find was captured moments later.

He sighed. Worst summer ever.

Peeping over the edge of a fence, he looked for other potential hiding spots. Where would you want to hide in an apocalypse? Somewhere with no windows, lots of food and supplies, lots of nooks and crannies to hide in. His eyes scanned the street. Somewhere like… the mall! Perfect!

He flew over to it, careful to stay out of the line of sight of The Horrifying Sweaty One-Armed Monstrosity, that ambled about, inviting anyone to hop into its mouth and groaning about calling its mother. He pulled open the sliding glass doors and crept through the hallways, the remaining electricity sputtering out. “Hello?” His voice echoed down the empty corridors. “Stan? Mabel? Is anyone here?” All he heard was the sound of air whooshing in through vents and cracks from outside.

One light remained on in the food court, spurting off and on. A plate of nachos sat in the center of an otherwise empty table. “Nachos? Someone must have been here recently. I wonder if they’re still warm.” He reached out, cupping his hand against the cardboard side. A net caught out from under him, yanking him and the nachos up into the air. “Ahh! The nachos tricked me!” Who would lay a trap with nachos? Taking the sides of the net, he ripped it open with one swift motion and dropped to the ground.

A decorative bush rustled as a head of red hair popped out. “Dipper?” Black war paint caked her cheeks, her flannel shirt tied around her waist.

“Wendy! Oh no. You’ve been transformed into some kind of tree monster!” He ran towards her, but the moment he got to close, she had a crossbow up to his throat.

“Get back! What kind of monster are you, huh? Pretending to be my friend.” She stepped out of the bush, pointing the tip of the arrow against his skin, barely puncturing the skin.

He held perfectly still. If she shot him, it wouldn’t do anything, but it would only make her more suspicious. “Wendy, I’m not a monster. It’s really me.”

“Ha. Funny. Dipper’s dead. I know you’re not him.”

“I’m not tricking you. Weirdmaggedon brought me back here. You need to believe me.”  

“Prove it then.” Her knuckles turned white with strain.

He raised one hand, keeping his eyes always on hers. Then he dragged two fingers across his lips, pretending to zipper them, and throwing away the key. Their secret code, the one Wendy showed him when fighting the shapeshifter. 

She lowered the crossbow, “Dipper?”

He didn’t wait for her to say anything more. He tucked both his arms around her waist, relishing in her presence. “Wendy! You have no idea how happy I am to see you! I thought everyone I knew was gone!" 

Falling to her knees, Wendy hugged him back with spine crushing power. Her hair cascaded into his face, unwashed but still soft. One of her hands rested against the back of his head and neck, pulling him in so close… as close as he always wanted to be. Though this time, he couldn’t bring himself to care. The only thing that mattered was that she was okay. And of course she was okay! She was Wendy Corduroy. She pulled back, brushing at her eyes to try to make the crying stop. “You’re alive?” 

He shook his head, suddenly aware of how hollow his chest felt. “No. I’m just not a ghost anymore. But none of that matters. I’m just relieved to see you’re okay.”

“I'm relieved to see you too." She cupped his face in both her hands and sniffed, trying to cover up her almost-crying with a smile. 

"You guys have no idea how much I've missed you."

She ruffled his hat, or at least gave an attempt at ruffling it, since it couldn't actually move from the top of his head. "It's okay. We're together now. And Toby Determined, who I accidentally mistook for a monster.”

Toby stepped out from the shadows, clutching to his arm, which had an arrow sticking out of it. “This just in: this arrow in my shoulder!”

Wendy looked at the entrance through the corner of her eye. “We shouldn't stay out in the open for too long. Let me show you my hideout.”

 

\------

 

“So let me get this straight. You’ve been stuck in the mindscape this whole time? And now that you’re finally here you’ve already had 2 run-ins with Bill, lost your mentor, saw Ford get captured, and beat up 2 monsters at once? But you still made it here in one piece?”  

He shrugged, “Pretty much.”

“Wow.” She roasted a bat on an arrow over a fire started of money, math textbooks, and trashy Edgy on Purpose clothing. Dipper had offered to fly around and see if he could find her something else to eat, but she said she had everything under control. The light refracted against her green eyes as she turned the spit, the sound of fire cackling around her. “Dude, you’re gonna have forgive my language, but you’ve gotten pretty badass since I last saw you.”

He laughed, watching the shadows dance on the words FORT CA$H MONEY spray painted on the wall. “Nah, I’m just indestructible and I can fly.”

Laughing, she nudged his shoulder. “Take a compliment, man!”

“Yeah, a compliment.” He rested his cheek against his hand and went back to staring at the shadows on the walls. 

She sighed, tucking some of the hair out of her face. “So, what’s our next plan of action?”

“What?”

“I mean,” she opened the cash register next to her, taking a dollar bill out to wipe at the sweat and dirt on her face. “It sounds like you’re the person who’s gonna lead us out of this mess. So what do we do?”

“I don’t know,” he pressed his face into his hands. “I mean, I do know. But it feels like I don’t know how to do any of it on my own. I have to find all these symbols. I have to find Mabel. Save Ford. Save the world… What if Bill’s right? What if there’s no room for heroes in this world?”

Wendy set her roasted bat down to let it cool, and stood up. “Why don’t we head outside for a minute? Give you some space to think?”

“Are you sure? I mean, do you really want to go out there with the monsters?”

“Come on, with the two of us together, those monsters will be running like scared little girls.” She held out one hand to him. He took it. She lead him around the bends and turns of the abandoned mall, up the stairs and through the door that led to the roof (that only opened after she hacked at the lock with her axe).

She tromped across the concrete, axe at the ready. She dropped down on the edge, letting her feet dangle beneath her. Gravity Falls looked so vast from up there, but also so empty. No one was in the street. The only light came from burning fires. A couple cars roamed in the distance, dirt and dust billowing behind them. Dipper plopped down next to her. The space wasn’t helping him think. It only made him feel smaller.

“The end of the world. Man, those death metal album covers got it shockingly right.” She cracked open a can of Pitt Cola from a hidden cooler. She held it out to him, “Want any?”

“I don’t eat or drink anymore.”

“Suit yourself.” She chugged most of it. 

Dipper kept staring at the scene before him. He leaned back against his hands. “You know, I used to think I could get out of anything. I thought I could do it. The day always seemed to be saved. But I was wrong. I got too in over my head and look at where that got us.”

She set the Pitt Cola can down. “You seriously can’t be blaming this on yourself.”

“Who else is there to blame? I gave Bill his first victory. I trusted him and he killed me and that meant I wasn’t there for the people I love.”

“Look, dude, you can’t blame yourself for something out of your control. You tried to stop it, right? Maybe this would have happened no matter what. Who knows? But you’ve defeated Bill once before. What makes this time any different-- other than being a total fighting machine?”

He stared at his shoes. “Cause then I had Mabel. The reason I died was because she couldn’t get to me on time. If she did, there’s no doubt in my mind she would have defeated Bill. And now I have no idea where she is or if she’s even alive. Bill could be doing anything to her." 

“Then you need to get Mabel back. Look, this summer, I've seen some amazing things, but nothing as amazing as you and your sister. I don't know if it's dumb luck or yin and yang, or whatever, but your bond is so strong, it has exceeded life and death. Not even dimensions have kept you guys from fighting for each other. You just need to meet up, team up, and save the universe.” She tucked one finger under his hat and forced him to look at her. “Because, damn it, Dipper. There are no 2 people in this whole universe like you guys.”

“Thanks, Wendy.”

In the street, a monster screeched, biting off the top of a billboard and running off. Something glowed behind it between the gorge in the cliffs. A pink orb hovered in the sky, secured only by chains. Shining through its cracking exterior, a shooting star. Dipper jumped to his feet. “The shooting star from Mabel’s sweater. That’s where Bill has her! But how are we going to get to her without getting caught? I can fly there, but that doesn’t help you.”

Wendy grinned at the discount auto-mart below her. “I have an idea.” They both did. 

Dipper grinned back, this time extending a hand to her. “Let’s go get Mabel, team up, and save the universe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the part where translating the show started to get difficult. I realized it would be pretty easy just to copy and past the dialogue over, so I decided to add my own scenes. I liked the idea of Bill sort of teasing Dipper into joining the dark side, and I was especially happy that I could give Wendy a little more time with Dipper. The second chapter opens with Wendy telling Mabel some similar things, about how Mabel is destined to stay in Gravity Falls and find Dipper. It's fitting that the conversation goes the other way around too.


	19. Discount Auto-Mart Warriors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper and Wendy make their way to Mabel's bubble, but Gideon and his henchmen try to stop them.

Wendy kept her back to the walls of buildings, ducking behind bushes with her axe at the ready. Dipper floated steadily beside her, providing an aerial view of the terrain before giving her the okay to move forward. Toby Determined fumbled behind them, tripping over his own feet and breathing so heavy it was a mystery that Bill hadn't already found them. Dipper wasn’t sure why Toby had to come along but Wendy insisted that he would die on his own, even when inside the mall. Running into the auto-mart she grinned, “The abandoned auto-mart. Free cars right for the hot-wiring. We just found our ride to Mabel. I wonder if they have a tank. I've always wanted to drive a tank!”

Dipper dropped down to the ground, his heightened sight unchanged by the oncoming darkness. “I can’t believe this place is just abandoned.” Someone had to be there hiding from them.

Toby reached into one of the cars, “Ooh, an air freshener. Finally I'll smell like a person. Stealy stealy…” his fingers barely grazed it when a tranquilizer dart shot into his arm.

“Ah! It's gonna take more than one dart to keep me from-” Several more darts hit him all at once, causing him to fall face-first into the ground. Dipper shot in front of Wendy, preparing to take any stray darts that might come towards her.

“Oh no! Tony! Was it Tony? I can never remember his name.”

Dipper was right, they should have left him behind. The guy was a liability.

Bright lights flashed around them like an arena. Engines hummed against the soundless sky and the air covered with the smell of gasoline. 3 giant monster trucks circled them, vibrating with the intensity of their engines. It was kind of like that movie series, _Angry Andy_ or something.

One of the drivers leaned out of his car window. “Well, well, looks like we got ourselves a pair of ground walkers.”

Another one replied, weasley voice cackling. “Heheh! Ground walkers! Heheh! Ain't got no wheels!”

The other drivers laughed, leaning back in their seats as if they thought they already won. Dipper shared a sly glance with Wendy. “I’m sorry,” he answered, letting himself rise multiple feet into the air. “But did you say ground walkers?” The discount auto-mart warriors went silent. “Listen, all we want is to get to that bubble out east. We have no quarrel with you.”

A deep echoed voice answered them, low and covered with the faint tinge of static, as if electrified. “Oh but that’s where you’re wrong. Ya’ll fellers ain’t going nowhere.” A blacked, silhouetted stood on the hood of the leading car.

“Ya’ll?” Wendy repeated, unimpressed.

“Fellers?” Dipper added and then stopped. Of all people. Of everyone standing in his way it had to be, “Gideon?”

He lowered the megaphone, smirk plastered onto his pale chubby cheeks. And had he gotten… folksier? With tassles on his suit, too many rhinestones to count, and a coyboy hat-- Dipper was certain this was the worst thing he had seen that summer. “Wooo-wee! Look at what the apocalypse dragged in. Dipper Pines, what a surprise. Bill told me you were dead. That you took a pretty nasty fall.” His grin seemed to large for his face, pulling back his cheeks and exposing most of his teeth. 

He groaned, rolling his eyes. Like he was scared of Gideon now. “Uhg. What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same to you. But if you must know, ma' old pal Bill figured you might try to rescue Mabel. So he appointed me, master of these wastelands, and keeper of the bubble! My sweet precious Mabel's trapped inside and I have the only key!” He pulled it by the string, almost toy like with a bright yellow exterior and a picture of a shooting star across it. “Wrapped around my... well I wouldn't call it a neck exactly, wrapped around this little pocket of fat under ma' head?”

“Gideon, you have no right to keep her there!”

“Bill explained it to me nice and simple: she was always destined to be mine!” He pulled a newspaper clipping from under his hat, an article from when Mabel unwillingly dated him, which was a bit weird to be honest. And where would he possibly fit that with all of his hair? “And now that I have her in a cage she’ll learn to love me. I have an eternity to wait!” Dipper nearly chuckled. Like Gideon could understand the concept of eternity. “Ghost-Eyes? Are you ready to escort our friends to Bill’s dungeon.”

Ghost-Eyes grabbed Wendy by both arms, but then looked up at Dipper, already flying feet above him in the sky.

Wendy laughed, the strands of her hair falling into her face. A sly smile spread across her lips. “This isn’t gonna work, Gideon. You aren’t going to be able to catch Dipper. And once I break Ghost-Eyes’ arm and steal that key from around your neck, I’m gonna wear your butt on my foot like a rhinestone slipper.”

“Oho, and what makes you think you can do all that?”

“Because I’m a flippin’ Corduroy!” Wendy flipped over Ghost-Eyes, yanking his arm back with a satisfying crack. Dipper then dove downwards, tripping Ghost-Eyes and sending him spiralling into the parking lot, before keeping the rest of Gideon’s henchmen at bay.

“Ghost-Eyes, my hench-angel!” Gideon cried.

Charging at him, Wendy grabbed Gideon by the collar, holding him out at arm’s length. She pried the key from his neck, tossing it to Dipper and facing the other warriors. “Get back! Get back! Or I will drop-kick him, I swear!” She backed up to Dipper’s side, both of them watching as Gideon squirmed and squealed. She raised her arm to smash in one of the windows to a car, but Dipper held out one arm, shaking his head.

“You aren’t gonna get away with this, ya hear me!” Gideon yelled.

Dipper glanced at Wendy, somehow sharing the same idea without having to speak. “Guess what,” she said. “We already did.” Knocking Gideon back into the auto-mart warriors, Wendy leapt upwards, grabbing Dipper’s hands and hoisting one arm around his shoulder. He tucked one hand at her waist and flew off into the air at the fastest speed he could manage, trying to account for the fact that there was a living person hanging off of him who probably couldn’t handle a dangerous fall like that. But wow, if this wasn’t the apocalypse, Dipper would have been swooning over the ability to literally carry Wendy to safety. Maybe this whole immortal being thing wasn’t so bad…

Her fingers dug into his shirt as she watched the ground pass beneath them. “Uhh Dipper?” She stared behind her, the discount auto-mart warriors hoping into their cars to chase after them.

“I know, I’m going as fast as I can without dropping you. Besides,” he nudged his head towards the field before them, multicolored gumball like bubbles floating across the plains. “They have to beat us through that.”

“Are you sure _you_ can get through that?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

Making sure his grip was tight, he shot forward. While carrying Wendy’s weight was easy, he realized it was because he couldn’t feel the strain in his muscles. He wasn’t actually any stronger, just less aware of his own limitations. And with each curve, each slingshot around the bubbles he could feel his grip on her loosen.

  
She stared at the ground, watching as Gideon and his gang gave no regard to the bubbles; driving straight through them rather than around. She wrapped her arm further around his shoulders. “Dipper, they’re gaining on us.”

“We’ll make it! Just a little bit further.”

As he dipped below a bubble, Wendy slid downwards from his grasp. He reached out for her hand as she fell. Clawing her way upwards, she held onto him with all her strength. The cars pushed closer and closer, their roofs only a few feet below Wendy’s boots. The puffs of exhaust spiraled up into her face and tossed her hair around in wild tendrils.

“Dipper! The cliff!” She pointed, feet dangling in the open air. The cliff dug into the ground, as if a shovel had come and pulled out the fresh earth and dirt.

“Hang on, Wendy!” He went for it, flying over the gorge as fast as he could, Wendy’s fingers digging into his wrist.

The cavern below radiated blackness. It seemed to have no bottom. Wendy sucked in her breath, the sweat of her palms slipping against Dipper’s bare skin. They could make it. Just a bit further. She dragged downwards, closer towards the pit.

But it was only a little bit further. He hoisted her up as high as he could, and kept his eyes on the edge of the cliff, and Mabel’s bubble hovering over them. And he pushed onwards. Wendy reached up with the other hand, doubling her grip. The cavern neared its end, solid land only a few feet away, but Wendy slipping down and down. He pulled her up with all his might, as much as his body would allow. And when the ground was just in sight, barely beneath them, Wendy fell. She tumbled against the ground, dust spilling up around her like water when you jump in a pool. Then she was still, chest rising and falling with breath but otherwise unmoving.  

“Oh no! Wendy!” He scrambled towards her, dropping down to his feet. But before he could get any closer, a large hooded figure stood before him. "Stay away! I'm warning you!" he shouted, though the hesitation in his voice was certainly unconvincing. 

The figure pulled down his hood. “Heya, Dipper. Woah, I was not expecting to see you around here. How’s it hangin’?”

“Soos!”

Wendy stumbled upwards, clutching to her arm, wincing with each motion. “Soos?”

He tipped his hat at them, giving that toothy gopher grin Dipper hadn’t realized he missed so much. “Handyman of the apocalypse, at your service.”

“Soos! How did you--where’d you-- Ah nevermind! I’m glad to see you.” Dipper fumbled for words to match his excitement.

“I'm happy to see you too, dude. It’s been pretty lonely without you.” He knelt down by Wendy, raising her arm up so he could see. “Let me see what the damage is, here." He surveyed it for only a moment, "Ah, well the good news is: your arm is okay.”

“So what’s the bad news?” Dipper asked. 

“Bad news is we’re surrounded, dudes.”

The trucks circled around them like vultures. Their headlights blazed like the last specks of dying light before night and the sound of the engines hummed like growl of an angry beast hidden behind trees.

Gideon lept up onto the hood of his truck. “Wooowee. I dare say y'all almost had the jump on me there for a second. But this ain't your Gravity Falls anymore! Out here, I win.” He clapped his hands, signaling one of his henchmen to throw him a conch that he blew into, the sound droning across the town. “Bill's henchbats will be here any minute to retrieve y'all. Mabel’s mine now! Hahahaha!”

Dipper stared at the key, the reflection of his eyes caught in the shooting star. “Is she?”

“Well, yeah. I have her trapped ergo Mabel is mine!”

  
“Gideon, listen to me. I have had the worst summer ever. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that love is…” he looked over his shoulder at Wendy, at Soos, and then at the key in his hand,  “complicated. You can’t force someone to love you. And you can’t always express love in the way you want to. Sometimes there are barriers between you and the people you love, physical or emotional. But the best you can do is strive to be someone worthy of loving. Taking it out on other people only gets you hurt in the end.”

  
“Oh I’m worthy of lovin’! These prisoners love me!” The warriors around him cheered and revved their engines.  

  
“But Mabel doesn’t think so. Because you’re selfish. But you can change. Bill thinks there’s no heroes in this world. But if we work together and fight back, we can defeat him. You wanna be Mabel’s hero. Then do the one good thing that will happen to her all summer and help us stop Bill.”

  
Gideon seemed to consider it for a moment, shoulder's shrinking inwards and grin dripping into a frown. “That’s crazy! Do you know what Bill would do to me if that happens?”

  
Dipper paused for a beat. “Yes. I know exactly what he will do.” He gestured to himself openly, “But it is not the end of everything. I can’t ask you to put yourself in danger. It would be unfair of me to expect that of anyone. I have the key, I could fly up there right now and get her. You could pretend like it wasn’t your fault and move on. Or you can help us do the right thing.”

  
Gideon pulled the same newspaper clipping from his hat, eyes settled deep into it. His fingers clutched around the sides, crumpling the edges. “Dipper… will you tell her what I did?”

  
“O-of course.”

  
“I hope you're right about this.” He turned to the others, headlights bouncing off of the rhinestones of his suit. “Guys, new plan! Bill's minions are gonna be on us in seconds. But I'm not gonna let that dumb triangle be the warden o' me! Y'all ready for a good old fashioned prison brawl?”

  
“We're behind you for life, brother!” Ghost-Eyes yelled.

“Fighting children is boring, but fighting a chaos god sounds fun!” another answered.

“Let’s do this! Henchmen, rollout!” The mass of monster trucks drove away, billows of smoke coming up from behind their tires. And Dipper couldn’t help but feel maybe Wendy was onto something. Maybe he was supposed to lead them out of this.

Maybe… that was why George Washington kept yelling at him to leave the mindscape. Rambling about how the world would surely perish if Dipper stayed trapped forever. And maybe that explained the symbol in the wheel matching with his pine tree hat. This was destiny.

Soos let out a sigh. “Whew. And I thought I was gonna have to smack down.”

 

\------

  


Dipper stared at the bubble, face only inches from it, the pink glow illuminating his pale face. He turned the key over and over in his hands. “Okay, remember, guys. This is a prison bubble designed by Bill. We've got to prepare ourselves for what we find in here.”

  
“Whatever it is, we'll do it together. For Mabel!” Soos put his hand out.

  
Wendy put her hand on top of his. “For Mabel!”

  
Dipper didn’t move. He just kept staring at them, the only friends he ever made ready to charge into the unknown with him. He set his hand down on theirs, feeling how warm it was next to the living. And for a moment the images flashed before his eyes, gone before he could remember them. Question mark. Ice bag. Star. “For Mabel and for Gravity Falls.” Holding out the key, he clicked it into the lock, causing the chains to fall to the ground in a clatter.

“Are you ready to see her again?” Wendy asked.

He closed his eyes. He was going to see her again. It didn’t matter what was inside that bubble. Whatever monster or nightmare tried to stop him, he would face it over and over just to see Mabel again. “You have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dialogue between Dipper and Gideon was the first thing I wrote when I got the idea for the fic, and it sat burning a hole in my laptop for months before I got to publish it. I felt like while Dipper's intention would stay the same, his maturity about the situation would be stronger. Unlike in the show, Dipper is aware of how dangerous fighting Bill is, and I like the idea of him offering Gideon the opportunity to back out. I think it makes their connection stronger by recognizing the other's sacrifices. Though I wonder sometimes if I should have let Gideon take up that offer.


	20. Escape From Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inside the bubble, Dipper and Mabel are finally together again. But their reunion is not what they expected it to be.

The inside of the bubble looked like a blank canvas. No walls, no ceiling, just an endless white glare spread out across the pane. “Mabel! Mabel!” He called, voice brash against the other otherwise nothing. “Okay guys, Bill has taken over the town and if his weirdness spreads he's gonna take over the whole world. Our first step to stopping him is rescuing Mabel, but he's got her trapped in this strange prison bubble.”

Wendy stepped forward, boots creating a hollow echo on the ground. “What is this place anyway?”

The ground (or what seemed to be the ground) beneath her cracked, pieces of a shattered rainbow breaking against the white. She backed into Soos, as if it were possible to escape. The ground broke open, sending the three of them tumbling downwards into the unknown. Everything dripped with sparkles and rainbows. Dipper tried to grab them, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to carry them both. But Soos latched on to the two of them, taking them into the clutch of his arms. “Guys, if I die, I wanna die hugging!”

“That sounds like a terrible idea, trust me!” Dipped tried to pry himself free of Soos.

“Let my body be your shield!”

The landed, but not on solid ground. On something soft that smelt like fresh plastic. Dipper rolled onto his side and pushed one hand into the bright blue floor. “Huh? Is the entire ground a bouncy castle?”

Wendy sat up and rubbed at her neck. “Do you hear 80’s music?”

“And does the air smell like childlike wonder?” added Soos.

Dipper stared out at the prison bubble. Except it didn’t seem much like a prison, too many bright colors and air that really did smell like childhood. Like Halloween candy, waxy crayons, and his mom’s perfume--the kind that filled his earliest memories. He rose to his feet. This couldn’t be it. “This is Mabel’s prison?” It looked like her bedroom back home, with her hot pink walls, fluffy blankets, and trinkets that lined all of her shelves.

A boy in a green shirt popped into Dipper’s line of sight, holding up… a love letter? “Yes, definitely, absolutely.

An announcer came over the loud speakers and stuffed animals crossed the street, sweater birds flew over the ice cream mountains, and a giant Waddles paraded through the streets. “It's fun-o'clock everyone. Today's weather calls for rainbows with a chance of dance parties. If you are the owner of a unicorn with a top hat, please come to the ice cream beach. Your unicorn is being towed.” Dipper stepped towards it, worried that when he walked he would perhaps sink to the bottom into the real prison. But he never did. His shoes even came away caked with glitter.

“What is this new world?” Soos asked. “Shining. Shimmering. Splendid!”

A pink car pulled up on the side of the street. I looked like the one Mabel used to put her Barbies in and his DDAMD figurines, and they would play Fantasy Adventure Malibu Beach Party. Two radical and brightly colored young men in short shorts, peered over the front seats. Wait… where had Dipper seen them before?

“Welcome to Mabeland!” said the one with blonde hair. A sign, albeit a little redundant hung over them: MABELAND. PERFECTION BUT BETTER!

Dipper groaned and crossed his arms. “And this is worse than the apocalypse.”

Wendy squinted when she looked at them. “Dude, this place hurts my eyes.”

“Oh that's normal. Mabeland's rainbows have colors only bees and art students can see. Now who wants to go on the grand tour?” The blue haired one answered.

“Do we have a choice?” Dipper glowered. 

“No!” Xyler and Craz answered in unison.

Dipper unwillingly crawled into the back seat, Soos and Wendy much more willingly. He kept forgetting that people got tired. They didn’t have the boundless energy that he did. Xyler and Craz drove down the street, obeying the completely nonsensical traffic rules.  

“Mabeland is the ultimate paradise and the only rule: there are no rules.” Craz explained, pointing out the various attractions of Mabel’s world as the much too puffy clouds floated behind them.

  
“Except for one rule which is very serious,” Xyler muttered. "But no one would ever break it, so it's not worth mentioning.” Then they spoke together. “Yeah!"

Dipper got the feeling that Xyler and Craz were keeping something from him.

 

“Listen creepy dream guys, we're not here to party, okay?” Dipper interjected. “We just need to find Mabel and get her out of here. Where is she?”

  
“Our home girl Mabel lives at our next stop.” Craz spun the car wildly out of control, sending it spiralling off the road and into the cookie walls of a building and bouncing against a fire hydrant. “No rules!” 

 

\------

  
Arriving at the ice cream beach, Wendy and Soos tumbled out of the dented and shattered car. Dipper grumbled, at least relieved to have arrived at their… destination. Except it wasn’t. It was more of this weirdness, stuffed animals playing volley ball, giant waffles with big arms, it honestly made Dipper’s head spin. What was Bill even trying to pull with this? 

  
Xyler lead them towards the other beach goers. “Now, come have rad snacks served by awesome penguins.” Little penguins waddled up with trays full of food and drinks.

  
Wendy grabbed one of the drinks off a tray swirling her straw around in glitter liquid. “Oh, score! I'm so hungry.”

  
Soos took a drink too. “Yeah, I haven't eaten anything except for part of my hat for the last three days.” The two clinked their glasses together, and as much as it unnerved Dipper, it was the first time in months he saw them smile like that.

  
“Can you guys just hold on a second?” He dragged then away from the ongoing party of crazy creatures and into the only place that seemed to be quiet enough for conversation. “Do you see what's happening here? Don't forget this world was created by Bill.” Soos went to drink from his glass when Dipper slapped it to the ground, spilling its contents everywhere. “That punch is probably blood! And that glitter rain,” a puffy cloud sputtered pink sparkles over them, “is probably ground up bones, or babies, or something. Bill's using Mabel's own fantasies as some sick trap. We need to grab Mabel and get the heck out of here.”

Wendy shrugged still holding on to her glass. “Chill out, man. It’s fine. And whatever it is, it’s edible. Remember that Soos and I need food and water to live. You don’t.”

He sighed. “That’s not the point. We need to figure out where Mabel is or this would have all been for nothing!”

Craz interjected, appearing out of seemingly nowhere. So much for a quiet place to talk. “Oh, Mabel? She's at the top of the tallest tower guarded by those big buff waffle guards.” He pointed to a very tall, very pink, very shiny castle. Okay, that seemed like the kind of place Mabel would be. “There's no way to get past them!”

Soos put on his serious face. “Someone get me some syrup.”

 

\-------

 

“There she is! Soos, grab her! Wendy, barricade the door.” Dipper slammed the door to the upper room shut behind him, pushing away the invaders. Soos had done a pretty impressive job eating his way through those waffle guards, though Dipper attributed most of that to hunger. It did a pretty good job of scaring off the guards too. The rest was just a quick run up multiple flights of stairs, fighting off more guards, and drop kicking a few innocent looking stuffed animals. But what did Dipper care?

He found her.

Mabel laid still in bed, tucked away into careful and peaceful sleep, curtains drawn around her. She looked like she did in his memories, the ones of her spilling over in the seat next to him on long car rides or curled in her sleeping bag during family camping trips. She had a flower poised in her fingers, like a princess in those fairy tales. And he couldn’t help but stare. He had been watching Mabel but to be so close, to know he reach out and touch her. Soos scooped her up in his arms, cradling her against his shoulder.

The door pounded against Dipper’s back, as he and Wendy pushed back with all their combined strength.

Mabel’s eyes fluttered open, a yawn escaping her mouth. She peered over Soos’s shoulder. “Wendy? Soos?” And then she stopped, eyes wide. For a moment all the air felt sucked out of her lungs. “Dipper?”

He smiled at her, pausing for a just a moment. She could finally see him. _Finally_. That was the only word that kept running through his mind.

The door caved in, knocking Dipper and Wendy out of the way. “The waffles are coming back! We gotta hurry!” He shouted, flying up into the air. The waffle guards poured in, pointing their spears at them.

“Dipper?” She clapped her hands twice making the lights in the bedroom turn on, illuminating the odd statues of herself, the romantic drapery strung across the room, and the shooting star on the floor. The waffle guards stopped, and stood at attention. Soos lowered her to her feet. “Is that really you?” She reached out, but drew her hand back. Her face was so pale, the shooting star on her sweater stark against her skin.  

He smiled, unable to contain his emotions but unsure how to express them. He wanted to cry, or blush red, but all he could do was smile. “It’s me.”

Mabel’s steps forward were hesitant and untrusting. But Dipper ran for her, colliding his body with hers. He wrapped his arms around his sister and pulled her close. He had nearly forgotten what it was like to hug his sister. The static of her sweater and the flyaway strands of hair. She still smelt like hot glue and mango tango body mist. And she was still wearing his pine tree hat, the bottom of her bangs curling underneath it. He pressed his hands so close that he could feel her spine. He tucked his face into her shoulder. “I’m right here.” He clenched into her sweater, strands of her curly hand caught in between the empty spaces of his fingers.

Mabel’s arms coiled against his neck and shoulders, hat knocking against him. His skin felt lukewarm to the touch. There was no feeling of his breathing. And there was no smell to his hair or clothes. But she could tell just by the way he hugged her that he was real. “It is you!” She wept against him, pulling him closer and closer until they both fell to their knees. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Dipper. This is all my fault.” Her tears didn’t stain his clothes, but rolled off as if he were glass in a rainstorm.  

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m just happy to see you, okay? I missed you so much.” He rocked her back and forth, feeling each heavy breath of her chest press into his. 

“I missed you too.”

The twins stayed like that for so long. As much as they tried, there was no getting closer. No words that could sum up the pain, and desperation, and the love. Mabel leaned up to plant a kiss right on his temple, as Dipper tried to brush the wet strands of hair from her face. She kept trying to run her hands on him, across his right arm, his neck, the back of his head--the parts of him that were once broken. And there was no blood, no cracks or bends. And his eyes were so wonderfully soft, and brown.  

This was the moment, Dipper thought, that poets tried to express, that artists tried to paint. Such pure and perfect emotion that he was afraid to move, afraid to break it or else the universe may never experience anything like it again.

“What are you doing here?” She muttered into his shoulder.

He brushed back another strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “We came to rescue you from-”

“No. _How_ are you here?”

He paused. “When Bill took over Gravity Falls, the mindscape blended with the real world. Which meant I did too. But this isn’t permanent. Once we go back to the real world and defeat Bill, I’ll be gone again.”

“No. I’m not going back,” she replied. 

“What?” He broke the hug.

“This is my home now. I’m happy here.” She gestured towards a large desk with MAYOR MABEL etched on a plaque. “I made this place. I have everything I want… I have you. And if leaving means that I’ll lose you again, then it’s not worth it. I can’t do it. I don’t want to be saved.”

“Mabel you’ve got to. This is our fight. I know things aren’t great right now, but you can’t hide from them.”

“Listen, Dipper.” She sighed, and wiped away the tears on her cheeks. “After you… died,” the word felt so foreign in her mouth, and to say it with him looking at her with those big puppy dog eyes. “I wanted to hide in my sweater forever. I couldn’t do it anymore. Then I wake up here, and everything is okay again. Everything can stop hurting.”

“This isn’t cool, Mabel.” Wendy said, dropping down besides both of them. “The world is in trouble, all your friends and family need you. Bill could destroy everything.”

“Yeah, dude,” Soos added. “Everything is on fire, my abuelita turned into a chair, I saw a mailbox eat a squirrel earlier--poor squirrel.”

She sighed and looked away from them. “Well it wouldn’t be the first time I let Bill hurt someone I love. I’m 1 for 1. Gotta keep that record going strong.”

“Mabel,” he turned her head to face him, “don’t say that. It is not your fault. Please, you need to come home.”

“Then leave without me. If I can’t have you, I at least can have the next best thing.”

Dipper pulled back, raising on eyebrow at her. “Next best thing?”

Someone came in a skateboard, wheels clicking against the floor. “Wohoho!” He high fived Mabel and skid to a stop. Dipper realized he was looking at himself. A very Mabel-fied version of himself in a backwards hat and sunglasses. “Yeah! Wiggity-wiggity-what's up, dude-bros? I'm Dippy Fresh! I like skateboarding, supporting my sister, and punctuating every sentence with a high five! Hup!” He held up one hand to Soos.

“Oh, don’t mind if I do,” Soos high fived Dippy Fresh back.

“Wait… you replaced me?” Dipper looked at Mabel, the heartbreak visible through the cracks in his expression.

“Not intentionally… I missed you.” She blushed a deep red. “And then he showed up. Look at his cool sunglasses!”

“That’s not funny. At all. He’s nothing like me!”

“I know he’s not you but I didn’t think I would ever see you again!” Her voice rose like high tide on the California beach, enough to grip you by the ankles and drown you. Her face flushed a bright red. She shoved Dipper away from her, knocking him back against the tiles. “I thought the last time I was ever gonna see you was in a coffin, wearing that suit you hated from Aunt Lois’s wedding; and that no matter what I did, or how hard I tried, you were never coming back! I know he’s not you, but I could pretend he was. That I had a perfect version of you.”

He shook his head. “You’re dead to me. And I mean that in the most ironic of ways. I am sorry that I put you through all this. I hate watching you suffer, but this is not healthy. You have to move on and get over the fact that I’m dead and that’s it. When we defeat Bill, I won’t be coming back. I don’t like it either, but you aren’t the one who will have to spend the rest of eternity completely _alone_!” He yelled at her. Dipper never yelled at Mabel, not like that. The whites of her eyes were stained red, and her expression lingered on him like smoke on clothes.

“Woah, take a chill pill, bro,” Dippy Fresh said. “Those grow on trees here!”

“You stay out of this, Dippy Fresh!”

“Dude, calm down,” Soos said. “Dippy Fresh didn’t do anything to you, dawg.”

Mabel pursed her lips together and looked away from him. “I’m not losing you again. Mabelland gives you whatever you want, and I want you. So just give it a chance and stay with me instead. Isn’t there something you want? Anything?” Her knowing smile wrapped around him like a boa constrictor.

“Mabel--” he stopped, there was a puff of pink sparkles and then something on his face, just below his eyes. His vision blurred, like paint added to water. He put one hand up to his cheek and swiped it away. He looked at his fingers. It was water. No, it was tears. He was crying. He was actually crying. And his chest huffed. He was breathing. “Oh my God. This isn’t possible. I can’t cry or breathe or…”

He didn’t feel stuck anymore. His body could change. He could let it out, everything that he had kept inside for so long. He put one hand up to the other eye, trying to wipe the tears away. They made his fingers slippery and his mouth taste like salt. “This isn’t real.” His voice barely broke against each desperate gasp for air.  

“Dip?” Mabel tried to reach for him, but he scrambled away, as if afraid of her touch.

He placed one hand to his chest, the artificial expansion of his rib cage pressing against his fingers. “Whatever this is… it isn’t good.” He scrambled to his feet, and then up into the air. He had to get away. He couldn’t let Bill get to him. This was not what he wanted. It wasn’t real… it wasn’t real… “Mabel,” he pleaded, holding out one hand to her. “Bill is messing with your head. We have to get out of here. We have to go back to the _real world_.” The last two words echoed a bit too loud, the air filled with a stillness and silence.

Mabel gasped and inched away from him. The two waffle guards that previously stood at attention grabbed him by both arms, pulling him down so that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t fly away. “Under Article Smiley Face and Exhibit Squeaky Duck, you are hereby accused of breaking our one rule: mentioning reality,” the waffle guard announced. For the first time, Dipper really wished he paid attention to Stan’s lectures on ‘what to do if you ever get arrested’. The waffle guards pulled him up to his knees, forcing him further down into the ground. And as much as he tried to fly away, he couldn’t. Like the ability was suddenly turned off. “Prepare to be banished from this world forever.”

“Hey,” Wendy yelled, pushing up her sleeves. “You can’t just do that.” Another waffle guard pointed a spear at her, though she didn’t flinch.

“It’s okay, Wendy,” Dipper said. He turned to Mabel, trying to figure out what emotion was plastered onto her stone-pale face. “Mabel, you’re smarter than this. Bill has you hypnotized or something! Are you really gonna let them banish me? We would never see each other again! This would be it!”

She bit the bottom of her lip, braces winking in the light. Then she sighed, “No. Of course not. That’s my brother guys. There’s gotta be another way!”

The waffled tightened his grip on Dipper’s arm, as if trying to cause him pain. “Very well. If Dipper wishes to stay, he must plead his case in the ultimate trial of fantasy vs. reality.”

Mabel’s breaths were shallow in her chest, Dipper’s raging and unreal as the tears kept streaming down his face. And the twins looked at each other, both from under the shadow of the same pine tree hat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to do a little note at the end of this, because this is the scene I was most excited to write. It's a shame I had to cut out some other cool parts of the original episode. There is something really powerful about prying Dipper and Mabel apart, and then bringing them back together. I feel the reunion would be incredibly heartfelt and emotional, but also powered by a grief that they have to overcome. It made sense to not have this be the perfect moment, just as it isn't in the show. They're so desperate to find each other, but in doing so recognize that there is an impermanence to their relationship. Things are not the same anymore. And their frustrations with reality can only be expressed through anger and denial. 
> 
> I also enjoyed getting to think more deeply about their home lives, and give their backstory and personality more depth. My favorites were thinking about the smell of childhood (and thereby their mother's perfume) and this elusive Aunt Lois and her apparent wedding that resulted in Dipper wearing a suit he hated. This was the perfect chapter to make up some weird facts about them. 
> 
> This was both fun and sad to write, and figuring out how to balance their emotions of excitement and loneliness was an experiment. But definitely one worth the exploration.


	21. Trials and Tribulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the rules of Mabeland, the twins' argument gets taken to court. Mabel refuses to return to the real world, too grief-stricken to live in a world where she and Dipper will be apart, but he knows he can't save the world without her help.

Dipper dug his heels into the yarn-woven carpet. Ducktective (come to think of it, he never saw the season finale) flew overhead and landed next to Soos in the benches. He pressed his elbows into the table, the glass of water rattling on the edge. The crying had stopped, finally. It took all of his energy to fight it off. To hold his breath until he stopped breathing again, until he felt hollow and unreal again.

“Seriously, Mabel,” he whispered. “You’re letting them take our argument to court.”

She shrugged and leaned back in her chair, eyes not meeting his. “Hey, I didn’t make the rules in Mabeland.”

“Yes you did. There’s a tapestry of you making the rules!” He pointed to it, hanging over the jury in the courtroom, an image of Mabel instructing bunnies to write on a scroll labeled “rules”. He rolled his eyes and sighed, burying his face in his hands.

A policegiraffe addressed the group. “All rise! For the honorable Judge Kitty Kitty Meow Meow Face-Shwartstein.”

  
A purple cat emerged from his hole in the bottom of the catscratcher and climbed to the top. He banged his squeaky mallet a few times. “Order! Order! This trial begins right meow!” His eyes caught a string hanging from the ceiling, and pawed at it. “Ooh! Hahaw! Oh!

  
Policegiraffe cleared his throat. “Judge?”

  
“Sorry, sorry. We are here to try Dipper Pines in the case of fantasy vs. reality.” The words appeared in the air, as if printed there. Fantasy in a soft font while reality was stamped in dark red. Courtroom bias. “If Dipper wins, Mabel will return with him to the real world! But if he loses he will be banished forever! And replaced with town darling, Dippy Fresh! Dippy, come on out.”

  
Dippy stood up in the crowd. “Flip-a-dip-dip!”

  
Dipper pounded his fists on the table, grumbling. “I hate him. So. much!”

  
Judge Kitty Kitty Meow Meow Face-Shwartstein continued, “The final decision will be made by a jury of your peers.”

  
Mabel clapped her hands twice, and the jury appeared, multiple copies of herself in a variety of sweaters. “Hi, there! I love your headband!” said one. “Shut your mouth, I love your headband!” replied another. “We're all wearing the same headband!” They all tossed their heads back and laughed. “HEADBANDS!”

Dipper huffed out a sigh and turned to his sister. “Look, Mabel, this whole thing is ridiculous. But if winning a trial is what it takes for you to come home with us, then so be it.”

“I'm sorry, Dipper, but I can only speak through my legal team now,” she said.

  
Xyler and Craz walked in, wearing suits with the sleeves ripped off. “We have a doctorate degree in hunkiness!” Craz said. “Also criminal and international law,” Xyler added.

  
Judge Kitty Kitty Meow Meow Face-Shwartstein began the trial, “Let's hear openin' statements.”

  
Xyler began, “Your honor, townsfolk, lovely ladies of the jury.” The Mabels swooned, laughing and nearly falling over each other. “My case is simple: this very unrighteous dude thinks that reality is better than fantasy.” A board appeared next to Craz, “But reality is bogus, lame, and whack.” As he spoke each of the words appeared on the board in crazy 80’s style fonts.”

  
“Objection, your honor, that's conjecture,” Dipper shouted.

  
“Meowverruled.”

Dipper leaned back in his seat with a huff. Of course, this was court in Mabel’s mind. It wasn’t going to work the way he wanted it to. He would have to start thinking like Mabel if he wanted to win her over.

Xyler continued to present his case. “I'd like to show you this "reality" that Dipper loves so much, and show you how it has wronged my client, and Dipper, their entire lives.” Craz held open  a case, displaying something inside, red and crumbling at the edges. “Exhibit A. Journal 3.” Dipper felt himself sink, as if he were phasing through the floor. “June 28th. Mason "Dipper" Pines passes away in a tragic accident, made out by the community to be a suicide. A lie that Mabel has been forced to cover since.”

“Mabel, please don’t do this to--”

He stopped forced to stare at himself, blood oozing across his forehead and into his eyes. The bends in his neck and spine twisted every which way. The courtroom around them had changed, harkening back to those last dreadful moments with the beautiful blue sky and the fresh grass. Replaying the moment of the last breath to escape his chest. His body, now dead, skull and brain fragments falling into the dirt like a cracked egg. And there was so much blood, encompassing him like a halo. Mabel remained seated at the table, squeezing her eyes shut and contorting her body away from the sight.

"Stop it!" He shouted, though he wasn't sure at who. "You're scaring Mabel! Stop it!" 

Craz addressed the jury with little regard to Dipper. “This is the reality Dipper wants Mabel to return to. One full of loss and heartbreak. After Dipper’s passing, Mabel has dutifully written in Journal 3, detailing the events of her life. And she ends every letter with **Wish You Were Here.** In the real world, all Mabel will ever have is an old book, a pine tree hat, and her own loneliness.” Mabel pulled her feet up onto the chair, so she could bury her face in her knees. “And what about you, Dipper?” Craz continued. “Is this the reality you want? One where you’re never truly there? A reality where you and Mabel are both alone?”

Dipper looked at Mabel, who still wasn’t look at anyone, just hiding inside her sweater. And then back at himself, or at least the memory of himself. That terrible black suit stained with fresh blood around the collar and his fogged over eyes. And the blood… all that blood that leaked into the minds of whoever saw it.

“This is reality for you. Out there, it's nothing but heartbreak.” Xyler said. “But in here, who wants pug sundaes?” He snapped his fingers and ice cream sundaes appeared in the hands of the jury of Mabel’s, all of whom giggled with delight. Way to kill the solemn mood.

The scene of the water tower faded away, the courtroom appearing just as it was before. “I think we’re ready for a verdict,” said the judge.

“Wait!” Dipper shot out of his seat. “I haven’t even presented my case.”

“Do you even have one?”

“Yes, I do your honor.” He paced to the front of the room. He knew what he had to do. “I call as witness: Mabel Pines!”

She popped her head out of the sweater, eyes red and puffy. She wiped at her nose. “Uh. Objection?”

“I’ll allow it. Us cats are famously curious. Meow meow, “ Judge Kitty Kitty Meow Meow Face-Shwartstein said, licking at the back of his paw.

The crowd muttered with a low static as Mabel shuffled her way up to the stand, head hung low so that her hair acted like a curtain. She sat in the chair as Dipper took careful notice of the quick and pained huffs in her chest.

“Mabel, listen," he began, trying to hunt for the right words, even though he knew there were none. "I might not have all the answers. I don’t know what the future holds for us or what it will be like back home. But I do know one thing well, and that’s you. I know you don’t want to live in this fantasy world.”

“Pfft, yeah right.”

“You’re scared. Of… everything. Being alone. Growing up. Getting your heart broken. Dying. And I’m scared too. I’m scared I’m going to completely lose my mind if I have to spend all that time alone in the mindscape. I’m afraid of watching you grow up without me. But I know it’s the way things have to be.”

Her hands shot up to her ears, “I’m not listening! LALALALA. I’ve told you before I’m not going back to a world where you won’t be there!”

Stomping up to her, Dipper grabbed her wrists and pried her hands away. “Look, real life stinks sometimes. I think I know that better than anyone.”

“Boo!” yelled one of the jury Mabels.

“Guilty!” screamed another.

He shook his head. “But there's a better way to get through it than denial, and that's with help from people who care about you. It's how we've gotten through our whole lives.” He looked around the room, first at Mabel’s eyes (his reflection caught in them) and then at Journal 3 (only able to exist in a fantasy land).

He grabbed it from the table, holding it open, allowing the scenes inside. “Can you believe all the amazing things we’ve done this summer? We fought gnomes, traveled through time, saw a living dinosaur!” With each page he turned, the memories were brought to life with it. A giant gnome monster chasing after their golf cart, the bright white flash of the time travel tape measure, the damp musty smell of the dinosaur cave. “Mabel, for the longest time I thought I was the hero. But none of these adventures would have been possible without you. And even when I was gone you still went out and did these things--and you’d win all by yourself. You’re more of a hero than I am and that’s why we need you to come home. We’ve been on our own adventures, but we’ve done them for each other. And even though you can’t always see me, I’ve always been there for you. Because not even dimensions can keep us apart.”

Tears dripped off her lashes, one by one onto the pages, making the ink run and devour all it saw. Her fingers lingered on the Lilliputians page, the last spread Dipper wrote, but definitely not their last adventure. And she smiled at him, cheeks fireball red. And even when he turned it, dragging his fingers across her handwriting and that horrible **Note to Self** , she still smiled.

Dipper lowered his face to match hers. And the twins looked so much alike in those moments, not their bodies but the fibers of their being, whatever cloth of the universe they were cut from was the same. “We’ve traveled to hell and back to get you, and we’re goin’ back together. Leave this fantasy world. Let’s defeat Bill together. Because screw it, Mabel,” Dipper never grinned so wide before, “who cares about the laws of nature, of dimensions, of life, or of death. Because I will see you again. I know it.”

He extended one hand to her, palm upwards, completely ignoring the rumble and grumble of the crowd.

Judge Kitty Kitty Meow Meow Face-Shwartstein banged his mallet. “Order! Order! Order in the court! Dangit, why is this hammer squeaky?”

“You mean it?” She said, leaping out of the witness’s chair. “No matter what. You’ll always be there?”

“Yes. Definitely. Absolutely.” He held out both arms. “Awkward sibling hug?”

The crowd shrieked, demanding her not to. Threatening that if she did, it would all be over.

She sucked it a breath, but it did nothing to stop her from crying. But strangely enough, this was the first time Mabel knew the tears were happy. That everything would be okay. She held out her arms in return. “Sincere sibling hug.”  Their pinetree hats knocked together, as they barreled in the hug.

“Don’t do the pats!” screamed the judge.

But they did, Mabel’s hands shaking just a little too much and Dipper’s fingers lingering too long on her back. Their voices were muffled by the other's clothes. “Pat, pat.”

Mabel pulled back, rubbing the glitter out of her eyes. “Aw, man, I never noticed how bright this place is, ugh! Have I actually been listening to the same song for an entire week?” She grimaced. Judge Kitty Kitty Meow Meow Face-Shwartstein hissed and growled in distress. “Woah. Time to calm you down.” She clapped twice, but nothing happened. “Uhh, why isn’t this working?”

Judge Kitty Kitty Meow Meow Face-Shwartstein snarled, “Because your reign over this land is over.” He split down the middle, starting at the tip of his head and tearing downwards, revealing dark yarn and writhing bugs. The crowd changed too, losing their bright colors and cheerful vibe. Their bodies turned a dark gray and their eyes blood red.

  
Mabel grabbed Dipper by the wrist. “We gotta get out of here!”

  
“Soos! Wendy! Paradise is canceled!” Dipper called over his shoulder as Mabel lead them out of the fantasy world, crumbling to gray tones and scrambling insects.

The air stung like hot peppers in Mabel’s lungs and her legs ached every time she pressed her foot into the gray-yarn ground. As her world literally crumbled, Mabel knew that she could at least look over her shoulder and see Dipper flying behind her (how amazing was that!) fighting off whatever thing of her imagination got too close.

  
The elephant sized Waddles slept happily in the street. As if he didn’t even notice that the paradise was falling apart. She climbed onto his back, extending a hand to Wendy and Soos. “Everyone get on!” She gave Waddles a couple pats on the cheek to wake him. “Take us to freedom, Giant Waddles! Yah!”

  
Waddles stretched his legs and bolted forwards, towards where the edge of the bubble met the false horizon. “Alright, guys, are you ready for this?” She grabbed a giant knitting needle as they passed by. “Sorry, Mabeland. It's time to burst your bubble!” As Waddles jumped, she held the needle out to puncture the side of the bubble, popping it and everything else inside. Waddles plummeted to the ground while Mabel closed her eyes and prepared for impact with the ground. But she never felt herself hit the ground. Instead, she opened her eyes to see Dipper floating multiple feet in the air, lowering her to the ground next to where Soos and Wendy landed safely. “You all good, everyone good?”

  
Waddles shrunk back to his perfect pig-size as Soos and Wendy grabbed the twins in a hug. “We've missed you, Mabel,” Soos said, squeezing as tight as he could.

“I missed you too,” she said between heavy breaths and laughter. Soos let go, giving Mabel a long enough moment to inhale deeply and look at her brother. “Hey, Dipper? Thanks. For everything.”  

He dropped to his feet and shrugged. “Anything for you. Besides,” he nudged her side with his elbow, “you think I was gonna let you stay there and miss out on your awkward teenage years. You wish.”

  
She pushed him away playfully. “Man, I went nuts back there. I mean come on. The real world can't be that bad, right?” But when she looked at the town, it was like a wasteland, no one in sight. Just fire, and destruction, and chaos. “Oh boy.”

  
“The town's deserted,” Wendy commented, brushing back her hair with one hand.

  
“Did Bill already win?”  Soos asked.

Dipper shook his head, “Not yet. Come on, guys. Let's see if we can still go hide out in the Shack. We’ve got some symbols to find.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had absolutely no plan going into this, but I'm very satisfied with it. Dipper and Mabel don't get much of an opportunity to speak up until this point, and I feel like they finally get to say some meaningful stuff. It's almost like therapy for them to admit to being scared. It's a moment of radical acceptance. And then the repetition of Wendy's line from a few chapters before, "Not even dimensions can keep you apart." The twins learn the most about themselves in this chapter.


	22. One Last Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper and Mabel return to the Mystery Shack to convince the refugees to join them in their fight against Bill. But before they know it, all their efforts have lead to one last night...

Dipper hovered over the bushes, Mabel perched at his side. The Shack creaked and moaned against the wind, but otherwise remained still. “Yes! It's in shambles! Just like we left it.”

Wendy laughed, leaping over the bush. “Oh, man, this is the first time I've ever felt happy going to work.”

As they ran back to the Shack, Mabel barged for the porch. “Hello house! Hello, porch. Hello, wads of gum I left stuck to the couch.” She rummaged behind the couch that always sat outside, grabbing her grappling hook.

  
Dipper was having a hard time containing his excitement. He knew it was the apocalypse. But he was excited to actually go home. To sit in Stan’s chair or to lie on his bed at stare up at the ceiling, just to be physically in the Shack. But as he got closer, he rammed into something hard. It actually hurt a little, if that’s what the ringing sensation in his head was. He stepped back not seeing anything in front of him, but when he reach outwards, his hands hit something that felt like cool glass. A dome of a soft pink hue, with faded symbols etched on the sides. It surrounded the entire Shack, but Mabel, Wendy, and Soos all passed through. He tapped it again, hearing the echo. “What is this?”

  
Mabel looked over her shoulder, “Dip?” He started to slam his hands against the barrier, desperate to break through. “Oh. The unicorn spell. You’re… you’re part of Bill’s world. You can’t get through.”

  
“Unicorn spell?”

  
“Ford and I put it on the Shack to protect us from Bill’s weirdness. It keeps all the crazy stuff out. I guess that means you now. I just didn’t think it would work like this.”

  
He let his hand drop as he sighed. “Just go on in, Mabel. I’ll be okay out here. You’re at least safe inside.”

  
Wendy pressed her ear against the door. “I think I hear someone inside.”

  
“Try to lure whatever it is out here,” Dipper instructed. “I’ll take care of it.”

  
They nodded, and braced themselves, weapons at the read, and burst through the door. “Yaaaahhhh!”

  
But to their surprise, the Shack wasn’t full of monsters. Well, it was. But the good kind like gnomes and unicorns and the manotaurs. It was also full of people, the remaining townsfolk looking tired, hungry, and disheveled. And in front of them, baseball bat in the air, was Stan.

  
Mabel dropped her weapon and ran into his arms. “Grunkle Stan!”

  
“Mabel,” he braced her in both arms, holding her so close. “I thought I lost you.”

  
Soos joined the hug, “Mr. Pines! It's really you! I've been hugging strangers to practice for this moment.”

  
“We missed you, you old codger,” Wendy added, embracing him too.

  
“I've missed you knuckleheads, too. It's good to have you back.” Stan chuckled. And then he looked out the open door. Through the doorway was the silhouette of a boy in a pine tree hat, hand pressed against the magic barrier that surrounded the Mystery Shack. “Is that-- It can’t be.” Stan reached for his baseball bat, not losing eye contact with the specter.

  
Mabel stilled his hand, “It’s him, Stan. It’s not a trick. It’s like Ford what was telling us about tearing a hole in the mindscape.”

  
Dipper smiled. He could see Stan’s hesitation. He understood that. Had it been him, he would have thought the return of a deceased loved one would be one of Bill’s tricks too. He wouldn’t have believed it. But he couldn’t help but smile with those big brown eyes.

  
The baseball bat slipped through Stan’s fingers and clattered to the floor. He bolted through the door, Mabel running beside him, both of them completely ignoring the safety of the Shack. Stan gripped him in both arms, probably squeezing too hard, but Dipper couldn’t tell. Mabel kept herself on the outer rim of the hug, until Stan pulled her in next to her brother. And it was the best hug, despite how Stan was pretending not to cry, Mabel nuzzling her face between them, and Dipper--just reveling in it. And for a moment it felt like their family wasn’t so broken.

  
“I can’t believe it’s you!” Stan reached up with one hand and ruffled the top of his hat and then pulled him in even tighter.

“Well, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” It was so warm in-between them, like the world was no longer room-temperature. “So… what’s everyone doing here?”

Stan cleared his throat as the inhabitants of the Shack slowly made their way out onto the front porch to get a closer look. Grenda, Candy, Pacifica, the gnomes, the Multi-Bear. It seemed as if everyone the twins had ever encountered was there.  “That’s kind of a long story, kiddo.”

Pituitaur pointed at the sky and shouted, “Eye-ball bat!”.  

“Evasive maneuvers!” a gnome cried. The inhabitants scurried back into the Shack as the bat hovered closer and closer.

Stan gripped Mabel by the wrist, yanking her towards the Shack. “Get inside, now!”

She stared over her shoulder, “But what about Dipper!”

But Dipper was getting pretty tired of hiding. Maybe it was time to send Bill a message. He flew up into the air, just in time to stare the eyeball bat face to… eye? They didn’t make much anatomical sense. And of course it was going to try turning him to stone, but it would have to keep up first. Just as the eyeball bat looked directly at him, red light gleaming from its iris, Dipper shot up even higher. It was just like the time he fought the Boogie-Man. Letting yourself fly up and then spiral down at high velocity. And he hoped Modoc would have been proud.

So when the eyeball bat made impact with his fist, and then with the ground, there wasn’t much left of it. Just a crater of dirt a broken wing and an unseeing eye. Dipper turned to Stan and Mabel, their dropped jaws reminding him that this wasn’t normal. They remembered a weak little kid, and now he was something else entirely. “I think we all have a lot of catching up to do.”

 

\--------

 

Stan trumped through the fallen trees and leaves that surrounded the Shack. All the other refugees had taken to the outside as well, everyone sitting on logs, stumps, and old furniture in a circle. Mabel sat with her shoulder to Dipper’s, Wendy as Soos behind them like two knights on a chessboard. Candy and Grenda huddled close to Mabel (after one very loud and high pitched reunion). The gnomes scampered everywhere, stacking on top of each other. Pacifica sat with one leg over the other, looking away from it all. The Multi-Bear hung out near the manataurs (good to see those guys getting along). McGucket sat far from most of the humans, hanging closer to the monsters. And together everyone told their stories.

Dipper’s story had taken the longest. Everyone was so quiet, wanting to hear a dead-boy’s tale or wisdom, if he had any of that to offer. Dipper almost felt too nervous to speak, even though that was all he had wanted to do for the past 2 months. He started with the beginning, the laptop and how Bill managed to trick him. He talked about the Northwest Mansion, the Portal, George Washington. How Ford was captured and the Journals destroyed. But mostly he talked about Modoc, all the good and bad things. There were no words to describe how good it felt to get it all off his chest. It wasn’t his burden anymore.

“Wowza,” Mabel muttered beside him. “All of that happened to you?”

“Yeah. But when you account for the fact that I don’t sleep it seems like a lot less. I just have longer days.”

“What about you Stan?” Mabel turned to him as he sat down beside Dipper with a can of brown meat in one hand and a manual can-opener in the other. “How did everyone get here?”

He pried at the lid with the can opener. “So I was hammering signs out back when the sky started vomiting nightmares. I listen to a lot of AM radio so I knew what this meant: the end of the world. What I didn't expect was what happened next.” He shrugged and poured some brown meat straight from the can into his mouth. “Turns out whatever you and my brother did to the shack with your unicorn voodoo made the crazy place invincible to weirdness.” He pointed to McGucket, “That's when Possum Breath over here shows up leading a bunch of injured stragglers through the forest. They needed a place to stay and since the mayor got captured, I elected myself de facto chief. The plan's to stay in here and eat Brown Meat until we run out, then I vote we eat the gnomes.”

“Hey! I’m short not deaf!” Jeff shouted in response.  

“Shh. Shh. Stress will make you chewy.”

“Wait,” Dipper said, turning to Stan. “You’re really just gonna let Bill win?”

“Look, kiddo. We’ve got a pretty good deal here. It’s safe, and there is no way in hell I’m letting someone else get hurt on my watch. You got that? Besides, I’m sure wherever the townsfolk are they’re fine.”

“Fine? Everyone has been turned to stone. Ford turned to solid gold! Bill doesn’t just collect knick-knacks. He’s sadistic! You don’t even know what he’s capable of! I’d hate to be the voice of reason, but Bill has no hesitation to kill anyone at anytime.” The refugees gasped, looking at each other in horror.

Mabel scaled the multi-bears back, using his head as a pedestal to raise herself over the others. “Guys, don't you see? Our friends need us, but we can only save them if we fight back.”

  
Dipper lifted himself to the ground, flying up beside her. “Mabel is right. Bill wants us to run and hide. He wants us to think he's invincible. But I know Bill’s secret weakness. But I can’t stop him on my own. I need to rescue Ford and the others first.” They whispered to each other. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you, to risk your lives. But I’m proof that it doesn’t matter what Bill does to you, there is always a way to stop him. Now, if we band together, if we combine all of our strength, our smarts, our...whatever Toby has…”

  
“Various rashes!” Dipper was shocked Toby was still alive, to be completely honest.

  
“...then we just might be able to rescue our friends and save Gravity Falls!”

  
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Stan cut him off.  “You can’t be serious about this.”  

  
Dipper shrugged, “But you have me. I’m invincible, I can fly, I’m your best shot at fighting Bill. I know it’s not the same as eyeball bats, but it’s the best chance we have. It will be like a game to him. He won’t immediately destroy me.”   

  
“Kid, he's an all powerful dream demon. He killed you once. Are you really gonna let him do it again.”

  
“Yes. If that’s what it takes.” He sighed, “And if all fails, you need to gather everyone you can and get out of Gravity Falls. Bill and all of his weirdness are stuck inside, like dome. If I fight Bill, you might have a moment to escape.”

“Have you all forgotten who's in charge here?” Stan argued. “Besides, we're only safe inside! It's not like we can take the Mystery Shack to Bill.”

McGucket bounced up and down, slapping his knee over and over. “Wha--Whoa! Holy hootenany! Flapjack and fiddlebanjos! Sorry, Sorry. Got a little excited. What I meant to say is I think I figured out a way to fight Bill and rescue Ford. But we're all gonna have to work together.” He snapped his fingers and some of the gnomes put a pair of green tinted glasses on him. He pulled out a blueprint, laying it out on the ground. He pointed in a few places and mumbled. “Now. You just...” his voice trailed off. 

Dipper grinned to himself, “That’s not a bad idea…”

Stan interjected, throwing himself between them. “In case your memory is failing you, this guy is cray-cray. These scribbles are a bunch of cockamamie balderdash! Excuse my French. And besides, where would you find a bunch of idiots dumb enough to build one of his crazy machines?”

Mabel smiled and nudged his arm, “Grunkle Stan, you’re looking at those idiots.”

The refugees cheered while Soos threw his arms in the air. “Idiots!”

 

\-------

 

The days passed with dutiful work, everyone had a role to play. The Manataurs were on heavy lifting. The gnomes and lilliputians on fine details and crawling into tight spaces. The unicorns… okay the unicorns were pretty terrible and didn’t want to do much. The humans did a lot of the raiding, hitting up the auto-mart, digging up the underground dinosaur, even pulling up odd bits of the portal. McGucket did all of the designing (what he called his “first robojig that won’t be used for evil), while Soos explained anime to him. Mabel kept motivation high, and will to live low with her “end of the world sing-along”. Dipper found himself doing the odds and ends, reaching things that were too high, carrying what was too heavy. Flying here, flying there. Protecting the community of ragtag warriors.

And then there was the last night, their project hidden under a trap from prying eyes and eyeball bats alike. Everyone surrounded themselves by the fire, putting on Mabel’s handmade sweaters for warmth. Even Pacifica donned Mabel’s llama sweater, but when she did Dipper swore he saw a flash of something behind his eyes. They laughed and joked, as if it wasn’t the end of the world.

Dipper didn’t though. For everyone around him it was the last night of Weirdmaggedon, their nightmare was about to end. Dipper’s was just about to start.

He hovered just a few feet above the ground, staring at the multi-colored sky. There were no stars that night, except for those of his memory and the constellation on his forehead. A stick crunched on the ground beside him. Grunkle Stan was standing over him.

Dipper didn’t look at him, he just kept staring at the sky. “It’s getting late. You should probably get everybody inside. I’ll take watch.”

  
Stan sighed. “You don’t have to sit out here alone every night and take watch.”

  
He shrugged, “What am I supposed to do? I can’t go inside. I don’t sleep. And I’m already dead so it makes sense that I take watch. Everyone else needs their rest.”

  
“Yeah but that doesn’t mean you need to be alone either.”

  
“I should be getting used to it. After tomorrow, I’m going to spend the rest of eternity alone.”

  
“So that’s what this is about.” Stan slumped down on the ground beside him.

“What’s about what?”

“Eh you were all for this dumb plan to save my brother and the town. And suddenly you started acting like a hermit.”

“Says you! You’re the guy who hasn’t done anything to help because you and your brother can’t get along! You just wanna hide in the Mystery Shack.”

Stan groaned and shook his head. “Listen, Dipper. Imma level with ya’. No, Ford and I don’t get along. I think he got what was coming for him. He’s a selfish idiot and I wasted 30 years trying to save him all for nothing. And if you think I’m gonna step back and let something happen to Mabel, just like it happened for Ford and it happened to you, then you’re the biggest idiot here.”

A silence hung over Dipper for a moment, something that gnawed at his non-existent insides. “I just want everyone to go home safe. I wish I didn’t have to put anyone else in danger to do that, but I know I can’t do it alone. I need everyone else. I wish it could be just me. Fighting Bill and losing so that you and Mabel and Ford and everyone else could escape seems like a pretty good deal to me.” He then cut himself off.

  
“You’re very different,” Stan commented, as if no one was listening.  

  
“Well yeah. I’m basically a ghost and--”

  
“Not like that. You’re not the same paranoid little kid I met on the first day of summer. You’re more confident, you know? And not just when it comes to fighting, but you believe in yourself more. You’ve grown up so much. Everything you’ve done for Mabel and all you are willing to do for Gravity Falls, even if it means going back to the mindscape or worse.” He sighed and leaned back, looking at the sky. “I’m proud of the man you’ve become. And I should be more like you.”

  
“Thanks, Grunkle Stan.” He smiled.

  
“Don’t mention it.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck, “Have er… have you and Mabel said your goodbye’s yet?”

  
Dipper folded his knees up to his chest. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. But he didn’t have a choice. He finally understood how Modoc felt. He didn’t want to be trapped in isolation anymore, eventually it would eat away at his sanity. But he wouldn’t wish his fate upon anyone. “Not yet. I don’t know what to say. It’s horrible because when you die, you regret not getting so say goodbye. All you want is a final word. And now I have that, and I realize it was so much easier not getting to say anything at all.” 

  
“Yeah I get that. But just know that you and Mabel are something special. I wish my brother and I had what you two do. You’ll always be there, and she’ll never give up on you.”

  
“You’re right.” And he knew what he wanted to say. What he wanted to do.

  
Stan stood up and cracked his back. “Whelp, Imma go round everybody up. I guess we’ll just have to see if this crazy idea works or not.”

  
“Goodnight, Grunkle Stan.”  

  
Stan walked off, turning his face away from Dipper. “Goodbye, kid.”  


\-------

 

Hours later, when the sky had darkened, Dipper knocked against the protective barrier around the Shack. Through the window, he could see Mabel snuggled up on a bare mattress on the floor, arms wrapped around herself. “Psst, Mabel.”

  
She tossed and yawned, opening eyes sticky with sleep. “Dip? What is it?” she whispered, low and hoarse, careful not to wake anyone else up.

  
“Come outside.”

  
She shook her head and rolled over. “It’s the middle of the night. And we kind of have to go save the world tomorrow. Can it wait?”

  
“No, it can’t. Just come outside would you?”

“Fine,” she grumbled, sitting upright and stretching. Then she tiptoed around the others, careful of all the creaky spots on the floor. Slipping out the front door, she watched as Dipper landed on his feet before her.  “You know Stan is gonna flip if he finds me out here.”

  
“I know, I know.” He paced back and forth, trying to find the right words. “But… if we win, that means this is the last time we'll be together. I want to go out on a high note. Like let’s have some fun. Do something crazy. Go on an adventure. Let’s have one last good night.”

  
Mabel stared at her shoes, socks almost black with dirt now, holes torn into her sweater from the day she and Ford fought the alien drones. “One last good night… what did you have in mind?”

  
He turned his back to her. “Come on, piggy back ride.”

  
She snorted. “You actually think you can lift me up? You’ve still got those noodle arms, bro-bro.”

  
“Hahaha,” he laughed with a sarcastic snap. “I think I can. Now hop on.” She climbed onto his back, and he was right. He lifted her with ease as she tucked her legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders. “Now hold on tight.”

  
“What are you--” she felt herself lift off the ground. Or more so, Dipper lift off the ground. It was like an elevator, a steady rise but with no floor beneath her. She clutched onto him, arms wrapping around his neck and fingers digging into his shirt. She probably would have suffocated him if he needed to breath. “Dipper! I’m afraid of heights!”

  
He laughed, mischievous and playful as the last light of day. “I won’t let you fall. Trust me.” And then he took off, flying through the cover of the trees at night. He took it slow enough that she could see everything, all the leaves on the trees, the glow of the Fearmid across the grass. Fields of weirdness bubbles, burning buildings, and the destruction that she had caused. But then he took a turn, away from all of that. The far off places of Gravity Falls. And for the first time in so long, she saw all of its beauty. She could see the lake where she had her first kiss, the soft blue and pink glow of height altering crystals, the mound of earth caused by the UFO that crashed there so long ago.

  
Her hair tossed into her eyes and into her mouth. The speed felt liberating, to just go somewhere to fly within the trees. It made her heart pick up and her mouth taste like metal and dew. She couldn’t even catch her breath it was all so wonderful.

  
Dipper gripped her ankles and smiled over his shoulder. “Fun isn’t it? It’s been the only good thing about the mindscape.”

  
“It’s amazing…”

  
“It gets better.” Then he shot off at high speed. And he wove through the trees with such ease even though Mabel’s eyes couldn’t keep up. Through the trunks, up and under branches. Sharp spins and loop-de-loops. And he was laughing. And she was laughing. It was like the way things used to be. Just the twins.

  
Despite the fact that it was the end of the world, this was the best day of her life.

  
Dipper came to a slow halt, hovering just over the Mystery Shack. She could see how forlorn he was, the desire to go back to that place but knowing he never could. That whispy look on his face.

  
And then he lowered her down into the branches of the trees, grabbing her hands so she wouldn’t fall. Their creation lurked before them on the ground, the weapon that would help them take back the Falls. Take back their home. Dipper sat down on the branch beside her, letting her grip to his arm as not to fall. For once he was the twin with perfect balance.

  
She blew some of the hair out of her face. “When did you become the fun and outgoing twin? And when did I become the lame, nervous one?”

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“I mean that we’re not the same people anymore, Dipper!" She shouted, voice echoing against the hills. I used to be so charming and happy. I wasn’t paranoid about anything and I didn’t care about any of these crazy conspiracies. I’m the one who should be telling you to sneak outside during the apocalypse. Not the other way around. I’ve changed into someone I’m not!”

  
“Awww don’t say that. I don’t think you’ve changed. I still see my dorky twin sister. I’ve always thought you were really smart, and kind, and outgoing, and confident, and cautious. You’re just seeing these things in yourself for the first time. You’re still the best sister I could ask for.”

  
She paused. “Even though I let you die?”

  
“You didn’t though. You would do anything until we saw each other again. Letting me die would be… forgetting about me. Not caring anymore. All I could ask is that you keep me in your life even though I won’t actually get to be a part of it anymore. Because in truth,” she could see how much he wished to emote, to express what he was feeling. “That’s all I need. Knowing that I’ll live through you.”

  
She smeared the tears across her face. “You’re a pretty great brother too, you know that?” She hugged him, thankful for the cover of the trees and even for Weirdmaggedon for bringing him back, even if only for a few nights. She had done it hadn’t she? In this disgusting and horrible way of fate, she brought him back.

  
He hugged her back, only wishing he could cry with her. Wishing he could take it all back. Wishing for more time. And wishing just to be there. He and Mabel had always been close. But never had they been this emotionally open to each other. The days of awkward sibling hugs were gone. Now it was one last genuine hug of love and longing. So he decided to say it. This time he got to say it.

  
“Goodbye, Mabel.”

  
“Goodbye, Mason.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually forgot about the unicorn spell up until this point. But whatever, it worked nicely in my favor. 
> 
> When writing the "goodbye" scenes I tried to ask myself what the characters wanted to hear from each other and then twist it a little. The moment between Stan and Dipper I think is the most special, because of how simple but loaded their dialogue is. In earlier chapters I have Dipper remarking that Stan would be proud of his physical prowess, but when the time comes, Stan is actually proud of Dipper's heart. Stan, on the other hand just wants to have an honest talk, something I think they don't have enough of in the canon. 
> 
> And then there's the twins. I went through multiple drafts of their goodbye and settled on a bittersweet one. Bringing back the theme of heights and falling was cool, because it finally puts both of them in control instead of in the position of falling. They are owning their grief. Dipper finally gets to say goodbye, but it's followed by the irony that it isn't the last thing they say to each other. He doesn't get to have the final word. I also wanted to have Mabel call him Mason as a throw back to chapter 2, when Mabel gets angry that everyone at the funeral keeps saying "Mason" instead of "Dipper". It's another moment of acceptance.


	23. Take Back The Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight against Bill begins... but at what cost?

The following morning was the most solemn of Dipper’s existence. The air hung like he was stuck between the two opposing poles of a magnet. Everyone wanted to say some kind of goodbye.

It started with Soos, who grabbed Dipper from behind and lifted him into the air. There were waterworks, full on water slides and swimming pools. “I’m gonna miss ya, dude! Aw man, this is even harder the second time.” Dipper tried to be sympathetic. But he was honestly trying not to feel how much it hurt. How afraid he was.

Wendy pulled him aside while everyone prepped the machine. She dragged him by his wrist into the cover of the trees. Her hair in the wind was the same color as the chaotic sky. “I’ve got a little goodbye present for you.”

“I can’t take anything with me,” he replied. “Sort of the physical/ metaphysical problem.”

“This you can.” She leaned in, her skin smelt like sweat and pine needles, and pressed the soft curves of her lips against his cheek. One of her hands cupped the other side of his face, and her hair tickled against his neck. And he could feel how hot her breath was on his room temperature skin.

She pulled away, smiling past the goodbye. Dipper huffed out a sigh. If he were alive he would have been blushing. His fingers traced where she touched. “Thank you.”

“Thank you? That’s all I get is thank you,” she slammed his shoulder with the palm of her hand. “I kissed you, man! I’m trying to be sweet.”

“No. No. It was it was… I’m still trying to process that it happened. But thank you, Wendy. For everything, not just the kiss.” Her fingers brushed his shoulder when she walked away.

Candy and Grenda said goodbye together. Dipper never felt he was particularly close to them, but it was nice to talk with them like they had been friends forever. How they promised to take good care of Mabel while he was away, like he was taking a trip to somewhere exotic.

He and McGucket had a surprisingly long talk, not about much in particular, but Dipper finally started to understand how the old guy felt. How violently lonely isolation can be. The terrible images that plagued his mind that he wished he could forget.

Pacifica hugged him goodbye, that was shocking. She just went for it without saying anything. “Not that I’m doing it because I’ll miss you or anything,” she tacked on to the end, “I’m only saying goodbye because everyone else is.”

He laughed and hugged her back, the soft fabric of Mabel’s llama sweater cradling him. “I heard what you told Mabel at the party. I forgive you for being a jerk to me and stuff. You don’t have to feel guilty.”

She pushed him away. “As if!” Then she rubbed awkwardly at her forearm and looked away. “Can we pretend this never happened?”

He shook his head. “No way. I’m going to remember this for the rest of time. But don’t worry, your secret will die with me.”

The rest of the goodbyes consumed his time, quick and simple. No long speeches. A couple, “I’ll miss you”s and “It won’t be the same without you”s and “I’ll leave the tv on at night if you want”s. But the worst part was that Mabel and Stan didn’t want to look him in the eye. It was okay. He didn’t want to look at them too long either for fear he would change his mind.

And then it was time to go. Everyone piled into the Shack, taking their positions. Dipper kept to the outside, he sucked in a deep breath, artificial and not actually filling his lungs. “Everyone,” he shouted. “It’s time to Take Back the Falls!”

 

\------

 

The Fearamid loomed over the horizon. Dipper hovered in the air beside Shacktron. He couldn’t believe they built that. That together the team had pried the portal from the basement, raided nearby road signs, even scavenged underground for the dinosaurs trapped in amber. And to think everyone so willingly signed themselves up to fight, knowing the risks of what they could become.

From inside the Shack, through the window, Mabel waved at him--just a simple wave, not to say hello or goodbye but to acknowledge he was there. She took her place at the helm, steering their massive fighting robot (which was pretty sweet). She looked at everyone around her, expecting the Shack to feel more uncanny than anything. But when she saw all of them, Candy and Grenda, Sev’ral Timez, the Multi-bear, Wendy, Soos, and Stan (nodding at her from the back wall but not moving from it) she finally got why she came back to Gravity Falls. It was for this moment.

Ford once told her that this town was a magnet for things that were special. For a man with six fingers, a con-artist, a sister, and the ghost of a boy. She originally thought that he meant that special meant weird, the things that didn’t belong. But that wasn’t true. The special thing was love. It was all love.

“Is everyone ready?” She called. The refugees cheered in response, almost deafening. “Then let’s show these monsters how we do things in Gravity Falls.”

Outside, Dipper watched as Soos marched out onto the porch, brandishing the flag Mabel made that said TAKE BACK THE FALLS with a variety of odd symbols stitched to the front-- some of them most definitely from the wheel. Though he never told her what those symbols were nor was he entirely sure who everyone was on it. But he was about to find out.  

The dinosaur on one of the hands of the Shacktron (don’t think to hard about the science of it) smashed into the side wall of the Fearamid. That was Dipper’s signal to crouch down low and wait for the real battle to start. He’d be of much more help from the ground where everyone else couldn’t go. And when the time was right, he’d lead a team into the Fearamid, save the townsfolk, and use the symbols to stop Bill. And if that plan failed, he was ready to fight Bill on his own.

Bill’s henchmaniacs leapt from the Fearamid, having grown incredibly large in size and with iron-hot eyes. Dipper braced himself. This was it.

When the fight began, he barely noticed. Fighting had become instinct now, it was really the only thing to do in the mindscape. It was all he felt like he had done for 2 months. When the monsters came, he tripped them up at the legs, whizzing out of their lines of sight and hiding behind object. The Shacktron punched, kicked, and roared. Canons shot and the dinosaur head bit into whatever came too close. He could see Mabel grinning through the window, the triumphant look on her face.

Everything would be okay.

Mabel turned the wheel again, lurching the Shacktron to the left. Taking down those monsters was a snap. And Bill looked pretty mad, but also distracted. Especially since the Shacktron ripped out his eye. It was time for step 2. “Rescue team, move out!” She passed steering off to her second in command and then ran for her backpack, prepacked with anything she might need: height altering crystals, grappling hook, memory eraser ray, stolen love potion.

She went to turn, when a hand grazed the top of her shoulder. Stan pressed his lips together, and huffed a sigh out of his nose. “Kid, are you sure you want to do this? What if we have to fight Bill, huh?”

She nodded, clutching at the straps of her backpack. “What choice do I have?”

He removed his hand from her. “Then let’s get this crazy plan going.”

Mabel planted herself firmly in the tube that would launch her into the air, begging that McGuckets calculations were correct. Though she knew that if she fell, Dipper would catch her. He was obviously waiting for her outside, making sure that unlike him, she would never hit the ground. She sucked in her breath and addressed the others. “Okay everyone. We get in, rescue Grunkle Ford and the rest of the town, get out, save the world. Piece of cake.”

Pacifica crossed her arms and leaned back against the air tube. “Just so we’re clear. If I die, I’m suing all of you.”

“No one is dying,” Stan grumbled. “Well… hopefully not."

“Now!” Wendy slammed her hand on a button, launching everyone up the tubes and out of the Gobblewonker’s mouth.

Dipper hovered just beneath the Fearamid. Staying out of sight but not out of mind. When he saw the tiny figures launch through the air, he shot upwards. He could hear Mabel laughing, as she cartwheeled through the air. Doing something like that would have made him scream, or maybe even throw up--well, when he was alive. But there was Mabel acting like she was as indestructible as he was. And maybe she was. Nothing ever seemed to bring Mabel down for too long.

The parachutes made of Mabel’s sweaters all stitched together opened in the air, everyone gliding with expertise down into the Fearamid through the hole punched into the wall. Dipper made sure to catch Mabel midair anyway, like a baseball curving through the air. Maybe it was because he wanted to be close to her again. Or maybe he was too nervous to see her make impact with the floor.

She laughed, tossing her one arm over his shoulder. “Is that what flying is like all the time?”

“Yup. Minus the parachutes.” Stan lost his balance and slid face first into the floor, the parachute flopping over him. “And minus the face plants. Sorry, Grunkle Stan!” Dipper slipped Mabel onto her feet while Stan staggered to his.

He stared at the Fearamid. He hadn’t seen the inside yet. He was afraid to get too close and potentially blow everyone’s cover. There had been a few clips of it on TV, but he couldn’t go inside to watch it. All he had were Mabel’s crayon drawings and recaps about it. So Bill really had made a throne out of stone humans. God, they all looked so scared. And they stacked and stacked, like when he and Mabel played with blocks as kids. “Oh man. It looks even worse in person.”

Mabel unhooked herself from her parachute and grabbed the grappling hook from her backpack. The angles of her face looked so sharp in the harsh lighting. She looked older, more refined, more tired. The bags hung under her eyes, permanent decorations to her face. Dipper could have laughed. She looked a lot like him. She fired the grappling hook without a word, its claws sinking into the stone body of Manly Dan. Then she let it pull her upwards with ease and practice. “I found Great Uncle Ford! He’s golden. But not in the good way!”

Dipper flew up into the air to get a glimpse. And she was right. Ford was still solid gold, though his pose had changed. He was definitely in mid-scream, reaching outwards for or at something. He surveyed the sight before him. He certainly knew how they felt. He had recently been turned to wood--and even when he was already dead it wasn’t fun. “But how are we going to unfreeze them?”

“I know!” A voice shouted. Dipper turned his head to see Gideon dancing in a cage, wearing what was quite possibly the worst outfit in all of human history. Powder blue with frillies everywhere.

Mabel raised an eyebrow. “Gideon? What happened to you?”

He kept dancing, though he looked like he wanted to stop hours ago. “Bill captured me. He's been forcing me to do cute dances in this cage for all eternity. I'm so tired of being cute!” he wailed. 

Dipper flew over to Gideon, methodologically working to release the lock. He wrapped his hands around two bars and pulled until one of them gave. “How do we undo this?” He then lowered Gideon and the cage down onto the floor.

“Mayor Tyler. He's the load-bearing human. Pull him out, and the whole thing goes down.”

Dipper nodded, going to work on his next task. The ability to let himself sink into his role made dealing with everything else a little bit easier. It was a step by step process. Save the townsfolk. Save the world…. Spend eternity alone. He gripped Mayor Tyler by the arm (wait since when was Tyler Mayor? Had he missed something?) and pulled, sending the whole throne downwards, like when you pull out the wrong block from the bottom of a stack.

When the people crumbled and hit the floor, they turned to flesh and blood again. The air filled with the sounds of groaning and pain, but also hugs and hellos. Desperate hellos. Loving hellos. He stepped back from it all and just watched. Yeah… he would get used to watching eventually.

Something grabbed him from behind, lifting him up and practically trying to squeeze the air out of him (if it even could). Mabel giggled beside him, also taken up by the figure. “Mabel! And Dipper! Ah, you did it! I knew I could count on you two. Haha! Oh it’s so good to finally see you together.” Mabel grinned and pressed her head up against his shoulder. Dipper decided to embrace it. After all, it was his first and last hug from his great uncle. So he leaned in too, trying to let his fingers graze Mabel’s.

Ford set them both down, finally going to face McGucket after 30 years. Dipper let them have that moment, but only for a moment. They were kind of on a time crunch. He tugged on the back of Ford’s coat, “Listen, Great Uncle Ford, we don't have a lot of time. Remember how you told me right before you were frozen that you knew Bill's weakness? We need to get that taken care of right now.”

“I--I do!” He pulled on a pair of gloves. “Now, does anyone have a pen? Pencil? Anything?” He picked up a can of abandoned spray-paint, definitely Robbie’s. “ Ah. Perfect.” He began to draw a circle onto the floor. Dipper floated about two feet over the ground, staying just out of Ford’s way but still able to watch.

“Drawing a circle on the floor. Well, he's lost his mind,” Stan mumbled.

“My mind is fine. And there is a way to beat him. With this.” He stepped back revealing the wheel. And with it, Dipper suddenly knew. He wasn’t sure how. Maybe it had something to do with the mindscape, or maybe it was just an effect of having already seen the wheel prior--knowing what it truly meant.

“The world’s most confusing game of hopscotch?” Pacifica said.

Dipper stepped forward, looking at the pale blue paint at his feet. The symbols kept flashing in his mind. “No, a prophecy. During my time in the mindscape my mentor told me that these symbols were the only force strong enough to vanquish Bill. He painted them on a cave wall thousands of years ago. With Bill defeated, his weirdness would be reversed and the town could be saved. This is… destiny. And now that I’m seeing all of you together, I know what to do.”  He looked out on the crowd, the faces of the hopeless and afraid. He lead them there. It was time to lead them out. It was like George Washington told him. You bear the symbol.

He pointed at his sister. “Mabel, the shooting star.” Then at his Great Uncle, both of them smiling and willing to comply. “Ford, the six fingered hand. But you both knew that.” They stepped into their respective spots.

“The question mark. This one's unsolvable,” Soos pondered.

  
Wendy pushed Robbie onto the broken heart symbol. “That one's easy. You've been rockin' that dumb hoodie since the seventh grade.”

  
Robbie looked down at himself. “Whoa. Destiny hoodie.”

  
Dipper continued. “The Tent of Telepathy sign! That’s definitely Gideon.”

  
Gideon stood in his place. “Whoo! An excuse to stand next to Mabel.”

  
“Don't turn this into a big deal,” she scoffed.

  
“Oh, I won't!” He whispered to himself like no one could hear. “I will.”

  
“Hold hands, everyone. This is a mystical human energy circuit,” Ford commanded to the others.

  
“Ice… Ice…” the image flashed before his eyes again. “The symbols aren’t meant to be taken literally. Someone cool in the face of danger… like Wendy.”

  
Lee, Nate, Tambry, Thompson chanted. “Wendy! Wendy!”

Dipper smiled back. Well, at least the teens were still acting like their usual stupid selves. “Wendy, the symbol is yours.” 

“Heheh. Shut up, you guys.” She planted her feet on the ice bag. 

“The spectacles would represent someone scholarly,” Ford added with a sly smile. McGucket stood on the glasses without hesitation. And yeah, he was right. 

Pacifica looked at the llama on the sweater Mabel leant her and stepped into her place. “This is freaky.” 

“Now hold hands, everyone,” Ford instructed. And everyone did, though Pacifica certainly hesitated to touch McGucket. The zodiac lit up a pale blue, not like the color of Bill’s flames, or the mystic amulet. Something softer and lighter.

Dipper smiled as the two halves lit up. “Great Uncle Ford! I think it's working!” He turned to face the rest of the townsfolk, flying up into the air to project his voice over them. “The rest of you get out. It's too dangerous!” And of course everyone else fled, hopefully back to the Shacktron for safety. But Dipper couldn’t let that bother him now. It would all be over soon. 

We just need one more person…” Ford thought aloud to himself. “Stanley! Stanley, get over here. You're the only one left.”

At first Stan didn’t budge, he just stared his brother in the eye. Then he looked up at Dipper, then over at Mabel. Dipper could have sworn that Stan’s eyes got misty. “Fine. I’ll hold your stupid hand.” And with that, the rest of the circle lit up, save for one space.

Dipper took his place in the circle, just over the pine tree symbol that constantly haunted him, holding hands with Wendy. Except one thing… he wasn’t glowing. His part of the circuit wasn’t working. “Uhhh Great Uncle Ford? You said this was a mystic _human_ energy circuit?”

“Yes.”

His expression went blank. Way to leave out one important detail, Modoc. It was the thing that had been drilled into his head over and over again for months. “I’m not human anymore.” He stepped out of the circuit, flying over head to stare out the hole punched into the wall. Of course, this is why Bill wanted him dead. One person was enough to tip the scale. It didn’t matter if he escaped or if he brought all the symbols together. He was the weak link. This was a trick the whole time. “Everyone needs to leave now! Get out of Gravity Falls as quickly as you can.”

But it was too late, a triangle shaped shadow casted over them. “OH NO, IT’S BILL! RIGHT? ISN’T THAT WHAT YOU’RE ALL THINKING? HEY, GIDEON. WHY AREN’T YOU DANCING? CHOP CHOP, HUH? ” Dipper spun around, immediately casting a hand out before Mabel. He did this. He brought them all together. He should have gone alone and he should have listened to Stan.  

Bill laughed, his single eye glaring down at them. “HAHAHA. THIS IS JUST TOO PERFECT! DIDN’T YOU BRAINIACS KNOW THE ZODIAC DOESN’T WORK IF YOU AREN’T ALL HUMAN? AND WHAT’S BETTER, PINE TREE BROUGHT EVERY THREAT TO MY POWER TOGETHER IN ONE EASY-TO-DESTROY CIRCLE.”  

The circle burned, fire catching to the hair of its inhabitants.

“YOU GUYS WANNA SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU PUT YOUR FAITH IN  A WEAK LINK?” Bill raised a hand, levitating Dipper into the air, cutting off his movement entirely.

“Hey! You give him back!” McGucket shouted.

  
Gideon yelled back, “You've gone too far, Cipher!”

  
“Yeah! We're not scared of you!” Wendy grabbed her axe.

Dipper yelled over the chaos, “Don’t do it! Leave me!”

  
“OH BUT YOU SHOULD BE.” He snaps and everyone except Dipper, Mabel, Ford and Stan floated up beside him, caught in the same tractor beam that Dipper was. “YOU KNOW THIS CASTLE COULD REALLY USE SOME DECORATIONS.” Within a blink, no magic or performance to it at all, everyone else was turned to tapestries and hung on the Fearamid walls. Dipper didn’t want to look, but he had no choice. They were all screaming.

  
Mabel shrieked as a cage formed over her, trapping her inside. She shoved her hands through the intricate design of the bars, reaching… reaching for him.

“YOU CAN STILL SAVE YOUR FAMILY, STANFORD. LAST CHANCE: TELL ME HOW TO TAKE WEIRDMAGEDDON GLOBAL AND I’LL SPARE THE KIDS.”

Dipper shouted, trying to free himself of invisible restraints. “No! Don't do it!"

  
Mabel yelled back. “Yeah! Bill makes bad deals!”

  
Bill paced over so he could peer into her cage. His eye hovered just between the gaps in the bars. “DON’T TOY WITH ME, SHOOTING STAR. I SEE EVERYTHI--” Mabel reached down, grabbing the abandoned can of spray and shooting it straight into Bill’s eye. “OW! NOT AGAIN! EVERY TIME!”

“Nice shot, pumpkin.” Stan called, just as Bill dropped him, Ford, and Dipper to the ground.

  
“I JUST REGENERATED THAT EYE!”

Mabel crossed her arms and gave a smug smile. “I know that hurts because I've accidentally done it to myself! Multiple times!” She rummaged through her backpack again, this time pulling out the height-altering flashlight from the beginning of the summer. She gave it a click and let the cage she was trapped in enlarge until she could leap through the bars with ease.

That was Mabel. Always resourceful.

Dipper ran to her side, floating just a few inches higher than her. “Save yourselves. Run,” he called to Stan and Ford. “We’ll take care of Bill.”

“What? That’s a suicide mission,” Ford shouted.

Dipper looked to Mabel. She was already staring at him. “It is. But if anyone can do it…”

“... it’s us. Everything we do, we do together.” Mabel finished his sentence. She didn’t get to stop Bill the last time. But this time she could. She held out a fist, and he bumped it in return.

This was the last thing that the twins would ever do together. And you know what? It seemed fitting. One last mystery. One last adventure.

“Hey! Bill! Come and get us, you pointy jerk!” Mabel called, sticking her tongue out at Bill and blowing a raspberry.

And with that, as if on cue, Dipper grabbed Mabel by the waist, clutched tightly to her, and shot off down the Fearmid hallways.

“What? No! It's too dangerous!”  Ford screamed for them, Stan immediately chasing after them. But before he could get any further, the two found themselves trapped in the same type of cage.

Bill opened his eye. “NOT SO FAST. YOU 2 WAIT HERE.” An iron red glow covered his body, as 6 arms sprouted from his sides like a timelapse of springtime flowers. He altered into something much worse and more horrible, made of teeth and something darkly burning. “I’VE GOT A LITTLE GIRL I NEED TO MAKE INTO A CORPSE AND A PESKY GHOST TO FINISH OFF, ONCE AND FOR ALL!” His voice deepened, low as rolling thunder. “SEEYA REAL SOON.”

“No! Wait! No! No! Oh, what do we do? What do we do?!” Stan wrapped his hands around the bars, eyes welling up with tears.

  
Ford banged on the bars beside him. “Kids!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was the worst because I was mid thesis and the whole thing was pretty much just repeating the episode in clever ways.


	24. Sacrifices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Defeating Bill has gotten much more difficult than anyone expected. But how far are the Pines family willing to go to stop him?

Stan pressed his back into the bars of the cage and dropped to the floor. “Oh, I can't believe this. He’s gonna kill Mabel. I don’t even know what he’ll do to Dipper. This is my fault, I should have done a better job taking care of them from the start. And now I’ll lose them both.”  

  
“Ah, don't blame yourself,” Ford said, twisting open the top of a canteen and taking a sip. “I'm the one who made a deal with Bill in the first place. I fell for all his easy flattery. You would have seen him for the scam artist he is.” He passed the canteen off to Stan.

  
He paused, unsure of what to do or say next. “How did things get so messed up between us?” Stan took a swig from the canteen. Straight vodka. That was strange, considering his brother was typically such a goody-two-shoes. But he was also a Pines at heart.

  
“We used to be like Dipper and Mabel. The world's about to end and they still work together. After everything that happened to them, how do they do it?”  
“Easy. They're kids. They don't know any better.” Ford stood up and straightened his coat. “Whoa, where you goin'?”

  
“I'm going to play the only card we have left. Let Bill into my mind. He'll be able to take over the galaxy and maybe even worse, but at least he might let the kids free.”

“What! Are you kiddin' me? Are you honestly telling me there's nothing else we can do?” he pleaded. 

  
“Bill's only weak in the mind space. Once I let him into my mind, I’ll be useless in the real world. But it would be the only chance I have to trap him there forever.”  

Stan straightened his back and tapped one finger to his chin. “...Trap him, huh? Like the way Dipper has been trapped in the mindscape?”

“Yes. I suppose so.”

“Does it have to be your mind? Or could it be someone else’s? Maybe mine? I mean, I’m not good for anything.”

Ford paused before spinning around on his heels. “Stanley, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I’ll let Bill into my mind. If the information in your brain is what he’s after then why would we risk it? I’ll let him in, and you can make sure he stays stuck in the mindscape forever. Just like how Dipper got trapped.”

Ford’s face paled and his jaw dropped. “Stan, I cannot believe you would suggest such a thing.”

“Better believe it, Sixer.” He pulled off his black suit jacket and tossed it in Ford’s face. “Trade clothes with me before Bill comes back.”

“No. I’m against it. I won’t let you take my place.”

“Ford,” Stan sighed as he undid his tie. “My twelve-year old niece and nephew have risked everything to stop Bill. They have agreed to die over and over again. I can’t let them do that. They’ve done enough. This is our best shot.”

With that Ford lunged himself at his brother. Stan wasn’t expecting a hug, but then what was he expecting from Ford? He did just agree to die if it meant keep Bill away from the kids. If Dipper and Mabel were brave enough to do it, then so was he. “I’m sorry, Stanley. I wish we had been more like Dipper and Mabel. Then none of this would have ever happened.”

Stan gave a half-hearted chuckle and hugged him back. “Well, I guess we are now.” He thought for a beat, something rising in his throat. “Promise me you’ll take care of her? She needs her Grunkle, you know? She won't have much left." 

“You know I will.”

 

\------

 

Dipper clutched his hands so hard into Mabel’s side that she was sure she’d have bruises the next day (assuming she lived to the next day). Bill’s shadow tossed and warped across the walls of the Fearamid. “He’s gaining on us!” she said.

Dipper shook his head, “Then let’s lose him." He veered right down a hallway, and behind a pillar.

Bill’s voice echoed after them. “WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU KIDS, I’M GONNA DISASSEMBLE YOUR MOLECULES! YOU’VE TRICKED ME FOR THE LAST TIME!”

Dipper pressed himself close to Mabel, covering her body with his, waiting with perfect silence and stillness. Their pine tree hats pressed together, brim to brim. Mabel had to hold her breath, trying not to gasp for air. Her lungs and throat burned. The moment of being still reminded her just how tired she was. That her legs felt like jelly.

Bill’s shadow passed over them.

She sucked in a deep breath.

Dipper pulled away from her, scouting ahead, peering for any kind of exit. “It’s a dead end. And we can’t turn back around. I’m starting to think there’s no way out of this place.”

“So what’s the plan?” Mabel panted.

“Working on it.” He started to pace back and forth.

Even though her arms shook too much to move, Mabel staggered to her feet and unzipped her backpack. “Well, like Grunkle Stan always says, when one door closes, choose a nearby wall and bash it in with brute force.” Fumbling through the backpack, she dug everything out: grappling hook, memory eraser ray, there it was! Height altering flashlight. She grew her hand to massive size and used it to punch a hole in the wall.

Light from the outside poured in. Dipper peered through, “Oh no.” Multiple stories below the townsfolk had been rounded up and guarded by Bill’s gang of monsters. The Shacktron laid battered into multiple pieces and clumps of rising dust. He turned to face Mabel. “They’ve all been captured. Everyone…”

Mabel dropped back down to the ground, going through each of the things in her backpack. Trying to think of what might help. “What are we gonna do? We can’t save them and stop Bill at the same time.” She picked up the memory eraser ray, turning it over and over in her hands.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t even know it it’s possible to defeat Bill. I’m just trying to buy time until I think of a plan.”

“Think harder.” Her finger nudged the memory eraser ray’s trigger, sending a bolt of off-white light across the air like lightning. Her vision temporarily spotted, but one thing was for sure, she heard Dipper scream. Actually scream in pain. And when her sight returned, he was clutching at a slash running through his left forearm, as if it had been… erased. Like from a picture editing software. Her eyes widened. At first she was worried. Then she grinned. “We can erase Bill! Both of you are from the mindscape, so you can be erased just like memories!”

Dipper looked at the gap in his arm, terrified, and then back at her, calculating. “I have a plan. You’re not going to like it.” He moved in close to her, so close that his mouth brushed her ear when he whispered.

Her eyes drifted to the punched hole in the wall. “You’re right. I don’t like it, bro.”

“But it’s the best we’ve got.” He tucked the memory eraser ray away in her backpack, just in case. Then he held out her grappling hook to her. “I trust you, Mabel. Do you trust me?”

She opened her mouth to respond when--

“PEEKA-BOO.” Dipper tucked the grappling hook into Mabel’s hand and pushed it behind her back. “THERE YOU ARE.”  Bill inched closer, the horrible multi-armed monstrosity he had become. His eye narrowed in on them.

Dipper tossed an arm in front of Mabel, backing her up dangerously close to the hole in the wall, pieces of rubble knocking at his feet. “You’re not going to win, Bill! I won’t let you.” Mabel dug her fingers into his arm, holding for balance the farther back she got to the open air.

“HA! I’D LOVE TO SEE YOU TRY, KID!” Bill reached out with one of his many black arms for them.

Dipper spun around, gripping Mabel by the shoulders. “I’m sorry, Mabel,” he said. “But I promise it will be okay.” And with that he pushed his sister out of the Fearamid. She disappeared like a magic trick, there one minute-- with those doe brown eyes that didn’t look away from him once-- and then gone. She didn't get a chance to scream or protest. He didn’t see her fall, or even hit the ground.

He felt something inside of him sink. The air felt stale. He just did that. He really did that.

Then Bill started to laugh, loud and ringing against Dipper’s ears. “THIS KEEPS GETTING MORE AND MORE INTERESTING! I’M SORRY. LET ME RECAP WHAT JUST HAPPENED. YOU JUST PUSHED YOUR OWN SISTER DOWN 15 STORIES TO SAVE HER? OH THE IRONY!”  

Dipper refused to move, blocking what he could of the hole with his body. He only closed his eyes and waited. “Better me than you.”

A dark hand wrapped around him, forcibly lifting him into the air. “OH PINE TREE, YOU JUST MADE A BIG MISTAKE. NOW WHO IS MY LEVERAGE GOING TO BE? GUESS YOU’LL HAVE TO GO TELL OLE’ FORDSY WHAT YOU DID.”

“Guess so.” He still didn't see Mabel through the wall. 

 

\------

 

Bill paraded into the main room, holding Dipper out like a trophy. “HOPE YOU DIDN’T MISS ME TOO MUCH.”

Stan and Ford looked at each other, as if rushed. Dipper couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was off about them. Ford walked up to the bars, keeping his hands behind his back. He looked up at Dipper, and then gasped. “Where’s Mabel? What did you do to her Bill?”

“OH I THINK PINE TREE HERE CAN ANSWER THAT ONE FOR YOU.”

He wished he were alive so that he could look as pale and sickly as he felt. But he answered, straight-faced. “I pushed her out of the Fearamid. Away from Bill.”

Ford and Stan’s expressions broke, Ford’s even more so. “Dipper, why would you…”

“You have to trust me! I did the right thing!”

Bill chuckled, gripping Dipper so tightly that it would have killed him. “THE LITTLE BRAT WOULD RATHER KILL HIS OWN SISTER THAN LET ME DO THE HONORS,” he raised another one of his hands up to  his eye, as if to ponder something. “COME TO THINK OF IT, KID, MAYBE I WAS WRONG TO MISJUDGE YOU. MAYBE YOU’RE MORE LIKE ME THAN I ORIGINALLY THOUGHT.” He dropped Dipper to the ground, but the moment he did, a spectral blue ball and chain strapped around his ankle. “WHAT DO YOU THINK, SIX FINGERS? SHOULD I TAKE HIM AS AN APPRENTICE? JUST THINK, AFTER A FEW CENTURIES OF TORMENT-- HE COULD BE A MASTER OF CHAOS.”

Dipper tried to fly away, pry himself free of the chain. “I would never do it! I’m nothing like you! Great Uncle Ford, please!” Ford looked at him, at first betrayed-- the lines around his mouth and between his brows were hard and unforgiving. And then Dipper mouthed, _Trust me._

Ford looked over at Stan, standing nearly dumbfounded but still calculating. “How about a deal instead Bill?”

He seemed to grin with only one eye. “I’M LISTENING.”

“I’ll let you into my mind,” he paused. “But you have to let my brother and the kid go.”

“Don't do it, Ford, it'll destroy the universe!” Stan shouted. His voice sounded off.

“It’s the only way.” Ford stepped forward, hands still behind his back-- almost dignified, mostly secretive.

Dipper squirmed and twisted, trying to break free. No... no… this wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t the plan. “No! Don’t do it, Grunkle Ford! Don’t do it!”

Bill approached, shedding his violent form in favor of his traditional yellow shape with the top hat. “IT’S A DEAL!” Ford held out one hand, and that’s when Dipper realized… 5 fingers. He only had 5 fingers.

He struggled harder. It was a trick. Stan and Ford were tricking Bill too. “No! No! Stop! You don’t understand!” But it was too late. Bill took Stan (dressed as Ford) by the hand, letting his physical body turn to stone and entering Stan’s mind. Stan dropped to his knees, and then was still.

“Grunkle Stan, no!” He wrapped the chain at his ankle around his hands and yanked as hard as he could, flew as high as he could; trying to break it before it was too late.

The real Ford stepped forward, dropping Stan’s fez off of his head and onto the floor. He reached into his jacket, and pulled out a knife. He approached Stan, definitely unwilling, but continuing anyway.

“Grunkle Ford? What are you doing?”  

“Same as you. Sometimes we do bad things to our siblings for the greater good. Look away, Dipper.”

He wished his voice didn’t have that other-worldly quality to it. That it would waver and break when he screamed. “No! You don’t understand. Mabel is--”

She ran back into the room, hair wind-tossed, and chest rolling with heavy breath. In one hand (palm now red and chaffing) she clutched to the grappling hook, and in the other the memory eraser ray, poised at the ready. She looked around, and hesitated. “What’s going on? Where’s Bill?” The pine tree hat casted a dark shadow on her face.  

Ford stepped back, lowering the knife in his hand. “Mabel?”

Dipper didn’t miss a beat, trying to think his way through the situation as best he could. “Stan tricked Bill into a deal. But as soon as Bill realizes what happened he won’t be happy.”

“Bill’s at his weakest in the mindscape. We need to act immediately,” Ford remarked.

Dipper’s eyes rested on the memory eraser ray. Of course… “Mabel, you need to erase Stan’s mind right now.”

She jerked around, almost angry at the suggestion. “What?”

“We don’t have any other choice! Do it before it’s too late! Bill will be erased too, just like we talked about.”

She stared at the ray in her hand. Two brown eyes reflected at her in the golden finish. Everyone in her family seemed to have those same eyes. The handle slipped in the sweat of her palms. Then she looked at Stan. He looked so helpless. She couldn't do it. How could she? If Stan forgot everything, she would be all alone with the memories. He was the only thing she had left for comfort and now she had to give him up too. 

“Mabel! Do it now!” Dipper’s voice cut across her thoughts like a hot knife.

To speak felt like she was about to choke. “I can’t! If I do it, I’ll lose you and Stan!”

“No, you won’t. I promise! We’ll both still be here.”

Her eyes bloomed with tears. She couldn’t seem to hold the memory eraser ray steady in her hands. Her fingers fumbled around the dial as she spelt out STANLEY PINES. The whites of her eyes had turned red, and her pink cheeks lost their innocent charm. Her mouth tasted like blood and sweat. And everyone was waiting for her to do it.

“Mabel! It’s only a matter of seconds until Bill finds out!”

She thought she was going to throw up, throat constricting and stomach churning. "I'm sorry!" She pulled the trigger.

With that, Mabel thought that she would eventually destroy everything she loved.

The off-white light shot against Stan. Mabel closed her eyes and looked away as not to face it. Her last terrible act.

Around her, the Fearamid deconstructed, block by block, vanishing into the rift above. The other monsters were all sucked up with it, screaming with a vengeance while they did. The chain holding Dipper down faded away, but when Mabel opened her eyes, he was fading too-- becoming more and more transparent like an old movie effect. And Stan stared out onto the scene, the image of the rift cast across his glasses. And those eyes. So big, brown, and entirely unseeing.

Mabel dropped the memory eraser ray, letting it shatter against the ground. “No. No. What have I done?” She spun around to look at Dipper, but there wasn’t much to look at anymore. He was barely just an image.

Dipper looked down at himself. He was fading fast, along with everything else from Bill’s reign. He had to make these last seconds count.

  
He looked at his twin. Her eyes looked just like his. “Look after Stan, okay?”  He took a deep breath, though he didn’t need to. And for a split second he remembered, as if the memory rose up from out of a lake with all the water spilling off the sides. The gap in his mind filled about the place between time and space.  

 

 _All bad things come in threes_  
 _And watches from within the trees_  
 _As Cipher’s plans begin to form_  
 _Beware the calm before the storm_  
 _Two worlds will forcibly blend_  
 _All things eventually end_  
 _And when there is nothing left to burn_  
 _Invoke my name and all will return_  

  
  
He gasped. He knew what he had to say. He knew exactly what would happen. And he knew that as soon as he said it, he would forget what it meant. "Mabel," he reached for her but his hands passed right through. "I promise I'll see you again. It will be okay!" And then, now that there was nothing left to burn, he said that one word, staring at the world as it fell apart around him. “Axolotl.”

Dipper Pines disappeared.

  
\------

 

Mabel ran across the dirt and grass. Everything was gone now, the town washed clean of all weirdness and left to its regular-weird self. She threw herself in front of Stan, desperate for an inkling, a speck of him to be left behind. “Grunkle Stan?” The dirt was wet with dew, staining her knees.

He blinked a couple times, drowsily. Then he looked at her and gave a very unconvincing smile. “Oh uhm. Hey there... kiddo? What’s your name?”

She shook her head. It was impossible to weep any harder than her. She could barely breath. “Grunkle Stan. Please… please, I know you’re in there. You can’t do this to me!”  

“Heh. Who you talkin’ to?” He seemed to genuinely care. That loving part of Stan was still there, but without memory it simply wasn’t worth anything.

“C-cmon. It's me. It's me, Grunkle Stan.” Ford tried to pull her away, but she fought back, yanking away. “Grunkle Stan, it's me! Please, answer me!” She shrieked so loud it made birds fly away from the trees. “I can’t lose you too!” She buried her face into his chest, grasping for even the familiar smell of alcohol and cigars on his clothes but even that was gone.. “I need you.”

  
Ford dropped down beside her, one hand rubbing in circles across her spine. “I’m sorry, Mabel. But Dipper was right, we had to. Everyone was willing to sacrifice anything to stop Bill. Stan has no idea. But he saved the world. He saved me.” And then, Ford leaned forward and hugged his brother. “You’re our hero, Stanley.”

  
The tears were coming down so hard Mabel nearly suffocated on them. But she managed to choke out a few choice words, as she nuzzled between her Grunkles. “Wish you were here.”

Ford nudged her away, trying to keep himself collected. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's take him home."

Mabel lead Stan by the hand back into the house. On the way, Ford tried to explain it all to her: Stan’s plan to sacrifice himself for the twins. And she told him about Dipper’s plan, in between sobs. About how by faking her death and using the grappling hook to scale back into the Fearamid she was supposed to take Bill by surprise. How this solution was a surprise to everyone. But it had to be the best possible ending, right? Soos followed along, and immediately became distraught upon learning what had happened.

She kicked down the front door, surprised she had enough energy left to do it, but maybe it was the grief or the rage. Stan looked around, wide eyed. “Nice place you got here.” Except it wasn’t. The whole Shack was practically destroyed.

  
“It’s your place, Grunkle Stan. Don’t you remember? Even a little?"

  
He sat down in his chair. Well that much hadn’t changed. He leaned back and settled in. “No but this chair hugs my butt like it remembers.” He stared at them, confused but also a little irritated. Soos started to cry, wailing in the corner of the room. “Hey, why the long faces? You guys look like it's someone's funeral.” He leaned into Mabel and whispered, “Who's that big guy crying in the corner?”

  
Mabel shook her head, “There’s gotta be something we can do to jog his memory.”

  
Ford put a hand on her shoulder, “There isn’t. I’m sorry. Stan’s gone.”

  
And that’s when Mabel remembered he wasn’t. Stan was still somewhere. People don’t just disappear or die, they just get lodged away. Trapped somewhere in the mindscape. McGucket got his memories back. So there was still hope for Stan. Then she repeated the words slowly, tasting them along with the sweat in her mouth. “You look like it’s someone’s funeral.” She turned to Ford, her breath starting to quicken. “I think I know what Stan could never forget. Something that you cannot get out of your head once you see it.”

  
“Mabel,” Ford said, “what you are doing?" 

  
“It will work,” she said cutting him off. She darted up the stairs, to the old attic bedroom. Most of the steps had collapsed in on themselves, and the ceiling hung lower than her head in certain places. She crawled her way in, the dust and splinters only a small price to pay. The air was so thick with dust that she felt like she was eating chalk when she breathed through her mouth. She peered under the bed, and grabbed at it with one finger and yanked it forward. Her scrapbook. She hadn’t used it for most of the summer; she traded it in favor of the Journal, but it did have something in it she needed. Something she didn’t show anyone.

She bounded down the stairs with it, and sat herself firmly on the arm of Stan’s chair.

  
Stan whispered to Soos, “What is she doing?”

  
“Mabel,” Soos said with a sniffle, “I know you’re upset and all, but this is definitely a little weird.”

  
Mabel’s breath burst from her mouth in burning huffs. “Like you haven’t seen weirder.” She flipped from page to page in her scrapbook. “I know my Grunkle is in there somewhere. There's gotta be something around here that can help bring him back. This'll work! This has to work! Here's the first day we came to Gravity Falls, Grunkle Stan. And here's a macaroni interpretation of my emotions.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“But that’s not what I’m trying to show you.” She flipped to a marked page in the scrapbook, a few loose pieces flying out when she turned the page. She held them out to him, revealing the titles of newspaper clippings. OBITUARY. MASON PINES. “Come on. Don’t you remember? It’s impossible to forget. I came back to Gravity Falls because you were the only person who saw what I saw. How about this?” She swallowed, mouth dry and body dehydrated. She grabbed a pen from the spiral of the scrapbook and turned to a fresh page. And in her sloppiest hand she wrote **Note To Self:**  “Come on, you can’t forget it. All that blood. The day Dipper died. I can't forget it.” He didn’t say anything, he just stared at her. Mabel let all of her breath go, not realizing she had been holding it. She dropped her head against his chest, knocking her (Dipper’s) pine tree hat off.  “You have to remember!”

  
His hand fell against the hat, examining it from every angle. Tucking some of the hair away from her face, he dropped the hat back on her head. He wiped the tears away from her eyes, her face covered in dirt and fresh scratches that dripped vibrant blood. “...You look like him. Right?”

She smiled, faint as the rising sun. Her reflection glistened in his eyes, those same brown eyes that everyone in her family had. “Yes. I do.” 

He hugged her, as close and as tight as he could, like the day when it happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing about this chapter went the way I expected it to (for real, I threw away old notes). But I felt that given the circumstances of this fic I could be a little overdramatic. Plus, I think it's satisfying to have an ending where the whole family gets to be up close and personal with defeating Bill. That was my number one complaint about the show, I felt Dipper and Mabel earned the right to defeat Bill instead of Stan. So I let myself have my wish. 
> 
> There was also a deep satisfaction in letting the repetition of the eyes pay off too. Canonically, the family all have brown eyes, so I made a habit of sort of repeating that. Here I repeat it by quoting the first chapter, "His eyes were so big, so brown, and now entirely unseeing." I felt that having a restorative power rest in how much everyone looked alike was a nice payoff. Stan and Ford save the day by looking alike, and so do Dipper and Mabel. She spends some time in the fic admiring how much she and Dipper look alike, that I got a lot of joy from bring this to a full circle. I think the brown eyes are symbolic of the deep love and connection of the family.


	25. The Axolotl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of Weirdmaggedon, the Axolotl has much to do.

Bill bombarded his way across the plane of soft pastel colors. A ribbon of blue fire followed him wherever he went, yet no smoke polluted the air. It remained as crisp and clean as ever. “WHAT WAS THAT? BILLIONS OF YEARS OF PLANNING THWARTED BY A MAN IN HIS UNDERWEAR AND THOSE TWO WASTES OF ATOMS AND SYNAPSES!”

  
The Axolotl turn it's mouth into a smug smile, and rolled onto its back. “It’s what you deserve.”

  
Bill turned a deep red, clenching his hands into fists. “NO NO NO. THIS ISN’T OVER YET. HELP ME REGENERATE SO I CAN DESTROY THE REST OF THE PINES FAMILY. COMPLETELY ELIMINATE THEM FROM THE FACE OF THEIR STUPID DIMENSION!”

  
“I'm afraid I can't do that.” The Axolotl rolled back onto its stomach and turned away, as if attending to something else far more important.

  
“WE HAD A DEAL! I INVOKE YOUR NAME AND THEN YOU GIVE ME A REGENERATION.”

  
“Our deal was that I control when where and how you regenerate. A different form, a different time. That was the nature of our deal. And besides, you have quite the price to pay for your transgressions.” The Axolotl chuckled, voice bouncing in other-worldly echoes. “It seems the con man himself has been conned.”

  
“WHAT?” Bill’s voice echoed and shrieked across the vast nothing.

  
The Axolotl shook its head. “I will have none of this attitude. I’m tired of you. Leave, I’m very busy.” It curled its tail and front feet inwards, hiding something from Bill’s view.

  
“WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE BUSY WITH? FLOATING AROUND SPACE WITH THAT STUPID GRIN ON YOUR FACE?”

“You wouldn’t like the answer. Are you sure you want to open up that can of worms? Mmm, worms,” the Axolotl said dreamily.

“STOP SWIMMING AROUND THE ISSUE AND TELL ME WHAT YOU’RE HIDING.”

“See for yourself.” It pulled back its tail, revealing an infinitely comfortable beanbag chair, and a boy curled up in it. His cheek pressed into his arm, and fingers brushing against his hair, as if he fell asleep like that--except he wasn’t moving or breathing. There were gashes across his skin, a bone sticking out of his arm, and a drool of blood leaking from his skull and down his shirt. But, in some way, some how, he was alive.

  
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME! YOU’RE HELPING HIM?”

  
“I said you wouldn’t like it.”  

“WHY ARE YOU HELPING HIM AND NOT ME? I’M AN INFINITE BEING JUST LIKE YOU. HE IS WORTHLESS AND IMPERMANENT.”

“Because I think the poor thing has suffered enough. These are things no mortal should experience. And besides, I want you to look upon the face of your destruction. I want you to see what you have done. Your actions have consequences.”

  
“AHHHHHGGGGGG!!!!” Bill screamed so loud that the space between time and space seemed to shake.

  
“Shhhh,” the Axolotl chastised. “Do not be so loud. You’ll disturb him. Regeneration is a very long and aching process.”

  
“I’LL BE AS LOUD AS I WANT, YOU SLIMY SALAMANDER! I DEMAND A SECOND CHANCE. RE-SET THE TIMELINE.”

  
“I’m afraid it would do you no good.”

  
Bill crossed his arms and tapped his foot. “AND WHY IS THAT?”

  
The Axolotl grinned at that, with the full curve of its mouth. “Because you will always lose. There is no timeline in which you truly succeed. If you destroy the Pines family too soon, you will never have your Portal opened. If you wait too long, they will resist your every move. You killed the boy, and yet he still bested you. They are a force much more powerful than you. And say you do win, and you take this dimension by force. You will wind up very unhappy. Every dimension you call home, you burn, until you cannot return.”

“BECAUSE YOU WASTE MY TIME WITH YOUR MORALS AND SPEECHES WHEN YOU COULD USE THAT ULTIMATE POWER OF YOURS TO HELP ME REGENERATE.”

“Blame the arson for the fire, Cipher. You will have to absolve your crimes if you wish to regenerate.”

Bill balled his hands into fists. “AND WHAT DOES THAT MEAN, YOU RIDDLE SPATTING GEKO? DO I HAVE TO LEARN SOMETHING ABOUT LOVE OR FAMILY? THAT I DID A BIG NO-NO BY KILLING SOME KID?”

  
“Don’t give me any bright ideas, Cipher. It wouldn’t be in your interest. Now leave or I will make you. You will know when I have come to my decision. Have patience until then.”

Bill huffed, realizing the 2 could quite literally fight for eternity. He straightened out his hat and stormed out, grumbling to himself in a storm of blue fire.

  
“Good riddance. I thought he’d never leave.” Then the Axolotl smiled down fondly on the boy in the infinitely comfortable beanbag chair. “As for you, just rest. You won’t remember any of this when you wake. I will do what I can to help you, though I'm afraid my own powers are limited. Be warned, however. Regeneration does not come without a price. None of this will be easy, but I have faith in you. The Pines family are very, very special.” It wrapped its trail back around, acting as a shield. “Now rest. Let me handle everything else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter for myself and then at the last moment said, go ahead and add it! I really loved writing some original dialogue for Bill and the Axolotl. I always wondered what it might be like if they spoke to each other and this is my idea!


	26. A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper wakes up. Everything appears to be normal.

Dipper woke up in the grass. The blue sky hazed across his eyes, unfocused. This was strange. Where was he? How did he get there? His fingers traced against each blade of the grass, feeling the soft slice on his skin. Breath wheezed in his chest, dry and sour in the back of his throat. Wait… breath?

  
This time he really focused, thinking about the intake of air, the cool pinch running into his lungs and then pulling up out of his nose in a warm puff. Breath. He was breathing. No, that was impossible. He didn’t breath. He raised his right arm, but when he did, he felt something pull inside his body. He winced and moved his arm more, feeling the muscles in his body contract and pull against the bone--stiff and creaky. Ignoring the yank under his skin, he slipped his fingers across his chest. Something about his clothes felt unfamiliar, one being that he could feel each of the fibers, that his clothes were tangible and not part of the representation of his wandering soul. Another, were the buttons that lined up his chest, and the thick black fabric on his arms. Definitely not his regular clothes.

  
He rested his fingertips just over his sternum. There was a steady rise and fall in his ribs--definitely breathing. But also something else, a flutter under his skin. A heartbeat.

  
“What the--” his voice broke in his throat, strained and sore. He tried to sit up, but when he did he felt everything in his body tug and ache all at once. He whimpered and fell back down. It was like he could feel everything; the movement of his bones, the pulse of blood through his body, the arch of his spine. It felt like his body had been torn apart and put back together again. Every sense seemed heightened due to his awareness of its former absence.

  
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he told himself. “Let’s try this again.” This time he moved more slowly, starting with his hands and pushing himself up off the ground, making sure his footing was secure. His head spun upon standing, sending black spots to dance across his eyes. He staggered back, trying to feel for something to lean on, and grabbing a tall wooden pole. He pressed himself against it, huffing for breath and letting the blood settle throughout his body.

  
He forgot how horribly uncomfortable being alive was (if alive was what he was). Everything felt so fragile and unreliable. Why did he ever miss it?

  
When his vision stabilized, he tried to get a sense for where he was. A thick cluster of pine trees surrounded him, making the air taste fresh in his mouth. The call of the breeze and the birds hummed into his ears. He looked up at the pole he used for balance. The water tower… wait. He stared back down at his clothes, a long black coat, white button up shirt, and collar tied around his throat.

  
No, it couldn’t be. Had things really-- no. He put one hand against the back of his head. There was no break, no shatter to his skull, just a faint sting when he touched it. But when he pulled his fingers away, they came back crusted with old, rusty blood. “Oh my God.” He had been brought back in his own broken and now repaired body.

  
But there was also something printed on his hand in blue ink and near type-font writing. **Welcome back. I’ve done what I could to return everything to normal, but even I have my limits. Use this second life well. -A**

  
Dipper pushed himself away from the water tower, staggering through the forest. “A? Who’s A? What’s going on here?” But when he looked down at his hand, the blue ink was already fading. “No! No! Wait, I have no idea what this means!”

  
What was happening? He started yelling out, “Wait? Where are you? Is anyone out there? Mabel? Stan?” He called, over and over. Still no answer. “Anyone! Modoc? Modoc, are you back too? Someone please!” Where was everyone? Why was he alone? He tried to sort through his memories, but nothing gave him any hint to what had happened. There was a blank space in his head, a whiteboard that had since been erased, where the memory of his his miraculous return should have been. 

  
After a while he stopped. The ink on his hand was gone. The sun baked the back of his neck. Gripping the collar of that awful reverend suit, Dipper pried it off and tossed it to the ground, undoing some of the buttons on his shirt. It had been so long since he felt hot. The sensation of sweat running down his skin was almost disgusting.

  
“Okay, what’s the next course of action,” he muttered to himself, already out of breath and wow did he hate breathing. He missed not breathing. “Find the Shack. If I can find the Shack, someone will be there.” He set off, trudging through the grass and fallen pine needles, desperate to find his way home.

\------

Mabel sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room floor. Papers, crayons, lists, and party hats encompassed her. Stan paced into the room. It seemed that whatever he did or wherever he went, he looked at things with a hesitation--still unsure of his own memories, though most of them had returned. Mabel and Ford spent grueling hours trying to jog Stan’s memory with pictures, videos, and stories, waiting for it all to come back to him. She spent countless hours curled up by his side until she had forgotten what day it was. Soos had even found the Journals, repaired as if never burned in the town square--Journal 1 really gave Stan’s memory a jolt. There would always be holes they couldn’t fill, things that no one knew but Stan, but he was himself again.

  
“How goes the birthday planning?” He took a sip of his Pitt Cola.

  
She bit the cap of her pen in thought, pressing the soft plastic between her teeth. “Do you think I can convince to unicorns to provide some rave music? Or should I just ask Soos to do it?”

  
“Neither.”

  
“Yeah you're probably right.” She scratched that off the list. She sighed and put down the pen. Everything felt so artificial in the recent, the birthday, Stan’s memories, even her own smile began to feel unreal to her. The constant thought of Weirdmageddon-- pulling the trigger on Stan, watching her brother just disappear, having to pick up all the broken pieces of her life and lay them back together. And as much as Stan and Ford tried to assure her that everything had turned out okay, and that she did the right thing; it couldn’t make the hollow feeling in her gut go away.

  
Stan knelt down beside her, and shot her a half-hearted, lopsided smile. “Lonely isn't it?”

  
“Auuughh!” she yelled. “I know we said goodbye and everything but I'm still all sad inside. I want to have the best party ever, but I can't do that without knowing if Dipper is okay.”

  
“Ahhh, I'm sure he is.”

  
“Then why hasn't he said anything yet?” Ford spent the moments when he wasn’t trying to look after Stan and Mabel, repairing Project Mentum in the basement, in hopes of making contact with Dipper again. But even with the machine on, no voice ever came through. Despite all the nights she spent laying beside it, not even the static would call her name. 

  
“I’m sure he's trying. It might be a little hard. That's all.” He patted the top of her head, “Dipper is one of the most stubborn idiots I have ever met. He’ll come around. I’m sure of it.”  
The front door creaked open, Mabel peered around the wall to see. “Soos? Are you back? Did you pick up those party supplies?”

  
It wasn't Soos. Instead there was a boy in a dusty black coat. His hair was tousled around his head like tiny bat wings and his eyes, so soft and brown. He clenched to the doorknob, putting all of his weight on it. “Mabel? Stan?” The voice that came was stained and breathy. Then he toppled over, unable to keep himself standing.

  
Then she realized. “Dipper!” She rushed to his side, gripping him by the shoulders and easing his head onto her knees. “Dipper? Are you okay?” She tried to brush the dirt and hair out of his eyes and was that… she pulled back her fingers, something red and flaky falling from them. Crusted blood? It was dusting across her hands and her clothes, caught in the back of his hair and staining the white collar of his shirt.

  
Stan dropped down at her side, one hand on her shoulder. “Well, I'll be damned.”

  
Dipper seemed to wither, head dropping against Mabel. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath. “It’s,” he huffed and wheezed between each word, “okay. It’s just been awhile since I had to do… this.” He gestured to all of himself. “Everything hurts.”

  
Mabel cradled his head and shoulders in her lap. He looked so fragile now, but she couldn’t help but delight at the sight of his flushed cheeks and heavy breath. She smiled, and pushed back his hair, revealing the birthmark across his forehead. “It’s really you isn’t it?”

  
“Yeah,” he grinned between 2 chapped lips. “You can stop wishing now.”

  
Pressing the tears back into the her eyes, Mabel shouted over her shoulder, “Grunkle Ford! Grunkle Ford, come quick!” She then leaned down and pressed her forehead to Dipper’s, smelling the sweat, blood, and dewey grass on his skin. "I can’t believe you’re back.”

  
Ford barreled into the room, looking momentarily panicked. “What is it, Mabel? What’s going--” he paused when he looked down. “By Tesla.” He knelt down beside the 3, slow as if not to frightened a startled deer. And finally the family was together, no monsters, no apocalypse. Just them. Stan tossed one arm around Mabel’s shoulders, and used his free hand to tussle Dipper’s hair. Ford encompassed them, hovering somewhere between the inside and outside of the hug.

  
And do you want to know what the best part was-- Dipper felt himself cry. Warm, salty tears spilling down his face and pooling at his jawline where his skin met his shirt collar. It felt amazing. He wouldn’t stop laughing, reveling in his own presence.

  
Ford reached down, and for what felt like the first time he placed a hand on his great nephew's shoulder. "Let's get you properly settled." He and Stan stood up, and together they helped Dipper to his feet. He wobbled, feeling incredibly lightheaded. He leaned mostly on Mabel, taking it step by step. “Come quickly,” Ford instructed, “we’ll hide out in my study until we find out exactly what’s going on here.”

 

\------

  
Ford tucked the stethoscope away into his pocket. “You seem to be in pristine health, Dipper. I’m sure all you need is rest and time to readjust.” He rubbed his chin, “Though I suppose I could run other tests. After all you are a scientific miracle. The things humanity could learn from your cells...” Stan nudged his brother a little too hard in the ribs. “Ow! I mean, that is to say, you have nothing to worry about.”

  
Dipper kicked his feet up and down on the table. Everyone seemed to be an odd combination of worried and relieved. He was home, he was healthy. But who knew how long this would last. Or if he was even the real Dipper-- though he knew he was. 

  
“Bro! I brought you some food.” Mabel barreled through the elevator door and slapped down an ice cream sandwich and can of Pitt cola next to Dipper.

  
Stan rubbed at his neck. “Pumpkin, I don't think that's the best thing for him.”

  
“She promised. Ice cream sandwiches for a week,” Dipper remarked, thinking back to that first entry she left out for him to read in the Journal. Mabel never forgot the little details. 

  
“You remembered that I wrote that?” she asked. 

  
“Of course I did. How could I not? You rarely owe me anything.”

  
She unwrapped the ice cream sandwich and held it out for him. It smelt like the inside of a freezer, cold and plastic, but also like the sharp bite of chocolate chips. He took a bite, forgetting for a moment what eating was like. As soon as the ice cream rushed into his mouth he almost choked, how strange it was. And then he grinned. “It’s so sweet. And cold!” When he swallowed it left a cold trail down his throat and chest. It was the best thing he had ever eaten. While he ate, Mabel cracked open the Pitt Cola can and dropped a crazy straw into it. Best meal ever.

  
Ford reached for a pen and tapped it against his lip. “I’d hate to rush you into things. But can you tell me what you remember? Do you know what happened this summer? How you got here?”

  
Dipper took another bite of his ice cream sandwich, speaking as he chewed. “I remember everything, vividly actually. Except how I got here. We defeated Bill and I was disappearing." He set down his ice cream. "Then I woke up on the ground. I didn’t know what was going on so I came back here and… that part is a little foggy. Did I pass out?”

  
“A little bit,” Mabel confessed.

  
“Do you remember anything at all when you were disappearing. Colors? A portal? Strange beings? Other dimensions,” Ford prompted.

  
Dipper closed his eyes and tried to think. A memory refused to form, but a feeling swept through him instead. “All I remember is feeling unreal. More unreal than in the mindscape. But I also remember feeling warm and safe. And then I woke up, just all at once. It was so sudden.”

  
"You said something,” Mabel said. “Right before you disappeared. Axe ladder.”

  
Axe ladder? No he didn’t say that. He said something else. “Axolotl.” He said it, and the word tasted familiar on his lips. “But I don’t know why.”

  
Ford tapped a finger on his chin and then grinned. “No, I think that’s it. Mabel, bring me my Journal.” She nodded and ran to the elevator, appearing minutes later with Journal 3 in her hands. Dipper nearly gasped at the sigh. His Journal was okay! Or well--Ford’s Journal. Somehow they were repaired, even the burns and char that Bill left behind were there. It looked new again. Brought back, sort of how he was.

  
Ford flipped through the pages, done in dark black ink and with a soft hand. “During my travels through other dimensions, many of the other cultures and people I met often appealed to a higher being called “the Axolotl”. It was like a god to them, associated with time and space,” he looked up, “and rebirth. At first I thought they were merely fools. But if there is such a thing as this Axolotl, you must have evoked its power. And it took pity on you.”

  
He paused. An Axolotl? That sounded crazy and ridiculous. Though crazy and ridiculous had become the norm. He kept trying to reach for the memory, but it would always phase through his fingers. “Wow. But wouldn’t I remember something about that?”

  
Stan rubbed his chin and thought to himself, as if something were familiar. “Eh. What does it matter if some dumb lizard had anything to do with this or not? You’re home. That’s what counts.”

  
“Home.” The word settled in Dipper’s mouth. “Oh my gosh! Home! What am I gonna do?”

  
Mabel cocked her head. “What do you mean, bro-bro? You are home. “

  
He felt the breath pick up in his lungs. Panic starting to rise up through his body. Heart rate picking up. It was terrible. “No! Home! Back to California home! Oh man, this is bad. People just don’t come back from the dead. What if the government finds out? What if they do experiments on me,” he was already breathing so hard he couldn’t talk.

  
Ford rested a hand on his shoulder. “Dipper. Relax. It will be okay. You can live here in Gravity Falls. We can try to pick up where you left off. You can go to school and play with your friends. I’m sure Stanley has the resources to forge some documents for you.”

  
“Hey, who said it would be that easy,” Stan grumbled. “Not to say that I couldn’t do it, I could.”

  
Dipper laced his fingers up through his hair. “I can’t just stay here. What about Mabel? What about Mom and Dad?” His eyes widened, “Mom and Dad… oh my God this is gonna freak them out.”

  
“Calm down,” Ford said. “We’ll do our best to explain. They’re your parents. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to see you again, more than anything else.”

  
“Yeah!” Mabel leapt up onto the table beside him, kicking her legs up and down. “I’m sure when Mom and Dad see you, they’ll be excited! Our whole family will be together again. They won’t have to be sad anymore.”

  
“They’ll freak out. It’d be like a horror movie. People just… don’t come back from the dead! Oh man, am I a zombie?"

  
“We’ll call your parents on the phone and tell them,” Stan suggested. “That way they have time to get used to it before they see you. It won't be easy, in fact they'll probably think we're nuts, but it will be alright.”

  
Dipper nodded, trying to catch his breath. “Okay. Alright. Let’s do it.”

  
“Awesome! I’ll get the phone,” Mabel said.

  
“Actually… I want to call," Dipper said. "I want to her their voices. I need to explain what happened. They won’t believe it if any of you tell them. Stan's right, they'll just think your nuts.”

  
Everyone stopped to stare at him. “Are you sure about that, kid?” Stan asked.

  
Dipper sucked in his breath. “I want to hear their voices. I… I haven’t checked in with them all summer. I want to know that they’re okay.”

  
“If you say so.”

 

\------

  
Dipper twirled the phone cord around his finger, a pit in his stomach. The rest of the family watched from within the doorway. He asked for space, that this moment could be as intimate as possible. It was funny how he felt more dead than alive, despite his very apparent alive-ness. The phone buzzed in his ear, ringing against the side of his skull. Low, hollow, and full of static.

  
The phone clicked and a voice cut through it. “Hello?”

  
“Hi Mom. It’s me--er, it’s Dipper.” He held his breath. Waited for her screams. Her denial. For her to start wailing. Just the shock.

  
“Oh hi, dear. How are you? Excited about your last week in Gravity Falls?”

  
The phone slipped out of his hand and slammed against the cabinet. Did she not remember? How could that be? They put his corpse six feet under in the dirt. His mother wailed and screamed. How could she--

  
He scrambled for the phone and put it back up to his mouth. “Sorry. Sorry.”

  
“What was that?”

  
“Dropped the phone. It’s fine. Everything is fine.”

  
“Your dad and I are very excited for you to come home. We’ve missed you both so much. Isn’t that right, honey?” He could hear her pull the phone away from her mouth, and then the echo of his dad’s voice: “Very much!”

  
He choked back on his tears. “I really missed you too.”

  
“You okay?”

  
He swallowed. His mouth felt surprisingly dry. “Never better. Perfect, even.”

  
“Why did you call? Did you need something? Is everything alright?”

  
“No everything is… everything is perfect. It’s just been awhile since I talked to you and Dad. Just thought I’d check in.”

  
“That’s nice, dear. Have you done anything fun recently? Big adventures? Mabel has been writing us the cutest little stories about all of your pretend adventures and sending them in the mail. Love potions and magic portals. She’s a funny girl.”

  
“It’s been the adventure of a lifetime. But you know me,” he looked over his shoulder at Mabel, “I’ve sort of been doing my own thing.”

  
“I’m sure you have been. You’ve always been very happy on your own.”

  
“Not always… well, not this summer at least. Hanging out with Mabel and Stan. That’s been so great, you have no idea.”

  
“I’m happy to hear that. Well, if you don’t need anything, I have to go. Have fun. I’ll see you in a week.”

  
“See you in a week.”

  
He hung up the phone and took a deep breath. What just happened?

  
“And? What’d they say,” Mabel asked.

  
“They don’t remember. It’s like nothing ever happened. But I don’t know how that could be. You guys remember.” He looked down at his hand. The blue ink was gone, but he could still remember the note left to him. He bit his lip. “Use this second life well. Signed A,” he muttered. He looked up at his family. “Do you really think there could be an Axolotl controlling this. And that it erased everyone’s memories but Gravity Falls’?”

  
Ford shook his head. “I wouldn’t know. But… I think this is a mystery best left unsolved.”

  
Stan wrapped one arm around Dipper and pulled Mabel in with the other. “Yeah! Besides you guys are going to be too busy planning your 13th birthday party to think about this kinda stuff. We’ve got a lot of summer to make up for! This is the most important birthday you kids will ever have, considering you both barely survived to see it.”

  
“Yeah!” Mabel chimed.

  
Dipper didn’t move. He stood still as if petrified. He could have sworn, out of the corner of his eye he saw a pinkish creature with lazy smile wink at him. He shook his head, trying to clear out the thought. No. He was only seeing things. 

  
“A party sounds great." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I cannot express how many drafts I had of this chapter. SO MANY. And as always I made this up on the spot. But it was rewarding to think "Finally! We're nearing the end." It was also a nice moment to put the whole family together and let them be happy. What a weird concept!


	27. Dead Boy Walking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take time. 
> 
> LOST LEGENDS SPOILERS

Day 1 

“Do you have any idea how amazing this is?” Mabel said, eyes like stars. “We need to tell everyone that you’re back! Soos, Wendy, Candy, Grenda, McGucket. The town will be so relieved to find out you’re okay!”

She shook Dipper by the arm, jolting him perhaps a bit too much. Ford pried her away. “No. Have patience, Mabel. Give Dipper some time. Do you know how much attention he’ll receive if we tell everyone right away? Yes, I’m sure the town will be delighted. But it’s best we let him relax first. Readjustment is key.”

She frowned, “Oh but--”

“No buts, Mabel.” Ford's response was a whip cracking against the air, followed by a soft, parental gaze. 

Dipper flushed pink and looked away. His fingers itched at the sleeve of the black coat, desperate to take the retched thing off and never see it again. “I think it’d be okay if we told a few people. Just Soos and Wendy, though! It wouldn’t be the same without them." 

Ford sighed, “Well, I suppose we can see how you are doing in the next few hours. I don't want to put so much on you at once." 

“A few hours?” Dipper complained.

“Ford’s right,” Stan said. Strange how they were suddenly so agreeable. What had that memory eraser even done? “There's a lot we have to think about. In the meantime, go upstairs and get out of those clothes. And take a shower, you’ve got dried blood all over you.”

Dipper subconsciously put a hand to the back of his head and felt the blood curl like clumps of dirt off his hair. “But I wanna talk to--

He gripped Dipper by the collar and pushed him towards the stairs. Just like old times. “Shower. Now.”

\------

The water felt wonderful. He kept changing the temperature between a cold that hardened his bones and so hot it scalded his skin. He eventually settled on warm water, letting it soothe all the aches in his spine, ribs, and right arm. He had strange scars there when he looked in the mirror, like his skin hadn’t healed naturally. They shimmered almost, faint and silvery with pastel undertones. The sheen was even in his hair too, where his skull had been smashed--but no one would probably ever notice.

He washed his hair 3 times. The first to get the blood out, the second to double check it really was clean, and the third because the soap felt good between his fingers and he missed being able to touch his own hair. The squishy sensation of playing and styling soapy hair like he was a little kid again. He even borrowed some of Mabel’s very berry twist soap (she wouldn’t mind this one time) just because it smelled good. He had to have been in there for hours. Stan knocked on the door to see if he was okay, and Dipper sent him away. This was great. Why didn’t he shower more often before?

Eventually, the water got too cold for him to handle. But it also reminded him how great warm and fluffy towels and drawing on the steamy mirror were.

He went to grab his clothes, still dirty and stained with browning blood (like wearing dirty clothes had been a problem before, besides, he had nothing else). But they were gone, stolen from where he left them crumpled on the floor. Mabel, probably.  He made sure the towel was wrapped tight around his waist and opened the door. “Mabel? Did you take my--” he looked down. There was a box with a little note attached to it.

**Hey, not to sound weird or anything, but I found your clothes at the theater after it all happened. I meant to give them back but I forgot them in this box. I guess, maybe I was waiting for something. --Wendy**

His chest swelled. Wendy? Stan and Ford actually called for them. He threw on his clothes and ran down the stairs with wet hair, not caring that his joints still felt rusty and sore. Wendy and Soos waited for him at the kitchen table. There was a moment of disbelief in their eyes, and if felt like he was Dipper embraced both of them. “Dude!” Soos screamed and pulled him in. Wendy laughed, “Hey, man!” And then she kissed his cheek again. Their presence made him feel whole.

He knew everyone would coddle him, and that no one would ever look at him the same again, except maybe for Mabel. He felt something plop on to his head. Mabel had dropped the pine tree hat over his still wet hair. “And I think this belongs to you too, bro. Thanks for the loan, but it looks better on you.” She looked at him, with that knowing, braces-filled smile.

They ordered pizza, and Dipper realized just how hungry he was even though it burnt his mouth at first. The world felt very knew, stripped down to it’s bare skin. He was a stranger in a familiar land. One foot in and out of the grave. But the warm smell of pizza, the sound of his family and friends laughing, and Mabel’s hand constantly reaching out to make sure he was really there--he knew he had to try.

 

Day 2 

Mabel woke in the middle of the night to screaming. It was desperate and breathy. She leapt out of the bed, and grabbed her grappling hook off the bedside table. She poised it in her fingers ready to strike.

  
It was Dipper. He tossed in the bed, hair sticking up in tufts and a combination of sweat and tears running down his face. He kicked and twisted within the makeshift bedsheets. He screamed again, this time more audible, “No! No! Don’t!” He gasped and struggled, grasping out at something. “No. Don’t. Railing. Fall.” His words blurred together only a few of them audible. “No. No!” He cried harder, face wet and red.

  
Letting the grappling hook slip from her fingers and clatter to the floor, Mabel ran to him. Her socks stuck to the unfinished floor. Grabbing his shoulders she shook him, perhaps too hard but enough to jolt him. “Wake up, Dip!” His eyes shot open, looking around in panic before realizing where he was, and sucking in a deep but unstable breath. He wheezed for air, hands shaking as he reached out for her. “It’s okay,” she cooed, taking his hand, “it was just a dream. It’s over now. You’re right here.”  

  
As a kid, Dipper had a lot of nightmares. Sometimes she would hear him scream through the wall between their bedroom. Other times the hall light would flicker on in the middle of the night as he went to go crawl into bed with their mom and dad. He was always worried about a monster that was watching him through the window or under the bed. He said it wanted his soul. He started staying up all night as not to dream. Mable always assumed that he grew out of it, that maybe he just learned to ignore it. But now she was thinking it wasn’t a dream.

  
Dipper sat upright and yanked Mabel into his embrace. He shook violently beside her, pressing his face into her shoulder, letting her hair crawl across his face. He just had to be close, to feel the sensations of reality against his body. “I can’t stop unseeing it,” he huffed. “Re-living it… I…”

  
“Shhh,” she lowered herself on the bed next to him, one hand pressed against the back of his head to stroke his hair. “It’s over. You’re right here. You’re alive.”

  
Dipper sniffed, trying to suck just enough air in to speak. “I’m scared that if I close my eyes I won’t wake up again.”  

  
Mabel didn’t answer at first. She just kept running her fingers through his hair. Then she sighed. “I’m not letting you go this time. Nothing is going to happen to you ever again.”

He dug his fingers into her pajama shirt, and the long strands of her hair stuck to his face. “Okay. Okay.” He was trying to reassure himself that she was right. Mabel just kept comforting him, shhhing into his ear. She grabbed his hand and tried to make him feel the pulse of his heart. Under his breath she could hear him counting, “1-2-3-4-5”. Where ever he learned to do that, Mabel didn't question it. She wasn’t sure how long it took, but his breathing eventually slowed. 

“See? It’s over. You’re going to be okay.”

He swallowed, mouth dry. “Mabel? Will you stay by me tonight? I know that sounds dumb, but I need you.”

“That’s not dumb. I need you too.” She pulled the covers over both of them, and laid down on her side next to him. They hadn’t been forced to share sleeping space since a camping trip last year when they thought they heard something outside of their tent and huddled together. He tried to keep space between them, but she didn’t care, pressing herself up against his side. It was nice to be so close to him after losing him. They curled together, hair intermingling, hands touching. She listened to the sound of his breathing until he fell asleep again.

He slept into the late afternoon. She spent most of the day by his side.

 

Day 3 

Stan took them fishing. Without being prompted he still remembered everything about fishing. He also remembered his flare for terrible jokes, quite possibly the worst jokes Mabel ever heard. She took pictures with her camera (mostly as alibi for when they went home), and they actually looked happy. Like nothing bad ever happened to them. It was actually fun. The twins wore the silly little hats Stan made at the beginning of the summer. Dipper seemed to be feeling better, though sometimes when he got tired he would lean back and skid his fingers across the water. He tried to cover Stan’s eyes on the bet that he could cast his line while blindfolded. Stan tried to cheat but Dipper wouldn’t let him. There was a momentary splashing fight. Dipper and Mabel ganged up on Stan and tried to knock him overboard.

Eventually they caught a few fish, but let them all go.

 

Day 4 

Dipper left a note on the counter that morning that he went out into the woods and that he’d be back by lunch time. If not, tell Ford that he was out by the cave with the incantations written on the walls. It was nothing to worry about. There was just something he had to do.

He dropped another rock with a huff, face red and chest burning. “I’d bet you’d be giving me a whole speech right now, huh, Modoc? About how now that I’m alive again I can’t do any of the amazing feats I once could?” He trudged down through the woods, continuing to groan and talk to no one. “Listen, man, I’m doing what I can. For me and for you. I don’t know much about your people’s traditions, but there is no way I’m letting you go without a proper funeral this time. Now you won’t be able to go on and on about how no one remembered you.”  

Dipper heaved another rock over and stacked it with the others. He dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. He pressed his face and arms up against the funeral pyre, sweat running down his temples. He was silent for a while, just breathing. Counting 1-2-3-4-5. He spun around and pressed his back up to the completed pyre. “I hope you’re happy, Modoc! I saved the world, despite you conveniently leaving out some important details about a human energy circle. But I did it! I defeated Bill Cipher!” He pressed his temple into the cool rock. His face was hot and sticky with tears. “And I wish you were here because I think you are the only person I could talk to, you know? Even though you almost never listened to me, I think you would at least understand what I’m going through. Because no one else ever will.” He wiped his nose and sniffled. “Can’t you give me a sign or something? Are you just gone? Did you return to the mindscape? Did this axolotl thing save you too? But even if you were back you wouldn’t say anything. Because ‘the dead aren’t meant to commune with the living’ or something like that. But guess what? I don’t think I’m either. I’m a dead boy walking.” He pulled his knees up to his chest, cradling himself in his own arms. “And you have no idea how much I need to talk to you.”

He stayed there to cry for awhile. Not moving. Just crying. He kept wishing he could fly so maybe he could get away from it all for a moment. Just stare from above to get a good angle on his life. But that wasn't going to happen.

He later rose to his feet, holding to the rocks for balance. He was still adjusting to this living thing: breathing, being tired, having to be aware of every part of his body. He made his way over to a patch of yellow wild flowers, grabbed them in heaping handfuls and tossed them over the pyre. Modoc would have hated them. But who cared? Modoc wasn't there to stop him.

When he felt well enough to leave he took a few steps away, and looked over his shoulder one last time. “I hope I made you proud.”

 

Day 5

Ford discovered multiple wormholes left behind during Weirdmaggedon, and fearing multi-dimensional leakage, took the family on a trip to go repair them. Mabel fell in one and Ford and Stan had to go in after her. Dipper stayed behind to keep watch, not like it would have mattered if he went anyway. The thought of a multi-verse suddenly made his head spin and his heart start to race. What would he see if he went in? He couldn't bare the thought of meeting other versions of himself... especially versions that may have been luckier than him. He had seen enough anyway. And besides, he couldn't scratch the idea that this multi-verse wasn't all it was chopped up to be. Apparently some crazy stuff happened, he had a hard time following Mabel's story, but he was just happy to have her home. 

 

Day 6

It rained. Mabel made everyone stay inside to eat cookies and watch scary movies. There was a lot of blood. She felt squeamish. There were times when the movie would get too violent and someone's skull would get smashed in, and Dipper would press his face into Mabel's shoulder until it passed. They ate leftover frosting out of the tub, and argued over which movie to watch next (one without so much blood). He was the first one to fall asleep at the end of the day, though Mabel didn’t last much longer after him.

Day 7

Wendy and Soos came by to help finish setting up for the party. At night Ford said he has made the decision to burn the Journals and all of his ties to Bill. Dipper and Mabel screamed at the same time that he can't. He can't burn them. At least not the third. It would crush them both.

Instead, they burned every image of Bill that was in the Shack--things leftover from Weirdmaggedon. Carpets, tapestries, and statues. Everything blackened and changed into dust. The roasted marshmallows over it and told silly stories. Ford threw Journals 1 and 2 into the bottomless pit. The third, for the sake of his niece and nephew was locked away in the basement of the Shack until they were ready to get rid of it. But they didn’t think they could ever destroy it. It was the symbol of their journey. The beginning, middle, and end.

Mabel couldn't be happier in that last night. Dipper smiled, and laughed. He told the best stories out of everyone, about his adventures, stories that his mentor told him. For the first time in days he was acting more like himself. He looked less pale and sickly, though sometimes the color would drain from his face if he felt scared or unsure. But he was there and he smiled when he looked at her. 

It would be okay. She had to believe that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my favorite chapter of the whole fic because 1.) It didn't have to have plot line. It was like writing a whole bunch of little drabbles. 2.) It's poignant that I let the question of "what is is like to come back to life" drive a part of the narrative. It's the goal the characters are after. But like the Axolotl says, it won't be easy. It's going to have a wide range of emotions and complications I didn't want to ignore. 3.) It's the closest I get to writing about a normal day.


	28. Right Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins need to work through some things together, including their goodbyes. 
> 
> LOST LEGENDS SPOILERS

Mabel stepped outside and sucked in her breath. “Dipper!” She called again. Where was he? It wasn’t typical for his just to run off like this. Especially not in the recent. And right before their birthday party? He had to be kidding her.

She tromped outside into the grass. The air smelt sickly sweet on their last day. Like pine needles and fresh wood. She peered around the back and front of the house. “Come on, bro! You can’t do this to me now!” He wasn’t on the roof or in the secret hideout beneath the ground. The grass tickled her legs and tracked dirt onto her socks.

“Dipper?” she shouted. Only birds answered.

Had he run away? Maybe he was with Soos or Wendy? Was he nervous about the party. Was he scared to go back home where he had to pretend like nothing happened? Was he nervous to see their parents? Oh no, what if something bad happened to him? What if he decided trying to live again was too hard? He was always complaining that he hated breathing and felt constantly tired.

She started to pick up the pace. No, Dipper had to be okay. She did not go through this whole summer just for something to suddenly happen to him. This time when she said his name it came out as a scream. She kept running in any direction she could. He had to be somewhere.

The gnomes hadn’t seen him. Nor the manotaurs. He wasn’t anywhere near the height altering crystals.

Mabel was just about to give up hope when she thought of one last place. Not too far from the Shack.

She found him lying down, fingers tracing the grass. Behind him, a frozen statue of Bill Cipher in mid-deal. The way he froze after entering Stan’s mind. He looked like a painting, soft and a part of everything around him. And Dipper, laying on the ground in a way that felt all too familiar. “Dip? What are you doing out here?”

He didn’t look over at her. “Can I ask you something, Mabel?”

She paused. “Yeah, I guess.”

“If I came back… do you think Bill can come back too?”

“What?”

“It’s not impossible. That’s pretty clear. I just can’t help but remember what Bill said, after he thought I pushed you out of the Fearamid. He said I could be like him, give or take however many years to mental torture to drive me insane.” He bit down on his lip. “I know I’m nothing like him. But I’m starting to wonder, if maybe this is what he meant. Coming back to life. The torment of knowing what it’s like to die. Having seen the nightmare realm. Knowing that one day I’ll die again. Wondering if I really do have these commonalities with him.” His fingers ran against the grass, arm outstretched to reveal the opal scars that pressed into his skin. Mabel sucked in her breath, watching how they glimmered in the sunlight. 

She shook her head. “Don’t be crazy, Dip. It doesn’t matter if you and Bill have anything in common. If he does come back, I bet he’ll steer clear of us. We’ve defeated him before. We’ll defeat him again and again if that’s what it takes.”  

“I know.”

“Why are you even thinking about this?”

“Just a nagging thought. I have lots of those now.”

He didn’t tell her, but had woken up from the nightmares again (this was a common occurrence now), but Mabel didn’t stir at the sound of his screams. She was tired. He didn’t really want to wake her. Usually, he was so exhausted that he would fall back asleep whether or not he wanted it. Though this last night he couldn’t seem to. The memories kept beating against him, like waves against a boat.

He decided to go downstairs for awhile and wait it out. His clothes still smelt like smoke from the bon fire. He had crept into the kitchen only to find Stan hunched over the table, spinning an empty beer bottle between his fingers. “It’s tough, isn’t it? Waking up and having to start again.”  

Dipper admitted to it. He thought he got everything he wanted. And now he kept wondering if he wanted to go back to the mindscape. If the readjustment was too hard. He kept running into walls, jumping and realizing he couldn’t fly. Holding his breath just to pretend like he didn’t need to breathe. Stan seemed to get it--how awfully uncanny it was. Waking up from a terrible dream just to realize you’re still dreaming. And for once, Dipper got to be honest. He didn’t think it would be like this.

They talked until Dipper felt weary, and then suddenly woke up in his bed.

He sighed and turned to his sister. “Mabel?”

“Mhm?”

He reached into his vest, tears starting to blink out of the corner of his eyes and down his face. He pulled out the memory eraser ray. “I can’t bring myself to do it. Will you? Erase my memories?”

She shook her head. “No. I won’t.”

He smiled, only some. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that. Truth is I don’t want to forget. Everything I learned this summer is invaluable. I can’t imagine what kind of person I’d be if I forgot everything. Modoc… he’d be so angry with me if he heard me say that. I just don’t know how to deal with all of this. How I’m gonna go live somewhere where only you and I remember? Sometimes I think I'd rather forget. That my life would be easier if I did."   

Mabel made the decision to lie down next to him, sun baking both of their faces. The shadow of the pine tree hat on his face. “It isn’t about dealing with it. It’s about working through it together.”

He nodded, staring up at the statue looming over them. “That’s how we’ve always done things. Together.”

And he had her. As long as she was by his side, he could do it.

 

\--------

They laid there for awhile. Wind in their hair, soft kiss of grass on their necks, and the thick smell of pine. Mabel watched Dipper the way he seemed so eerily calm but also broken down. He didn’t move, he just was. Like he couldn’t feel anything. But his breathing was also soft and controlled, and she could tell that he was breathing with intention--enjoying it even.

After awhile she told him it was time to go. And he took her hand so she could pull him up and they walked side by side through the woods.

The party was amazing. The whole town was there. No really, the whole down. Monsters and all. Even people that Mabel was convinced hated them-- like Gideon and Pacifica-- came as friends. They really wanted to be there. It was the first time Dipper was seeing most of them since it happened-- but after awhile he got back into the swing of it, laughing like old times. Everyone talked to him like nothing had changed.

Mabel had a little gift for Dipper. She handed it to him wrapped in layers of sparkly paper with at least 7 bows slapped on it. "I got a little present for you bro-seph." 

"Oh uhm," his faced turned white. "I didn't get you anything." 

"Well, this just sort of happened. Open it!" 

He opened the paper, careful not to rip it but merely pull the tape off so the paper remained in tact. A beautiful blue book with a pine tree embedded on the front slipped through the opening at the bottom of the paper. The leather felt smooth against his hands. The paper remained clean and untainted and smelled like an indie bookshop that was down the street from their house back home. He stared at his reflection in the pine tree, "Mabel, is this..."

"A Journal? Yeah." She rocked back on her feet. "When I was in that multi-verse thing Mabipper gave it to me. I think she was a weird combination of both of us... I don't actually want to think about that. But I figured that you would want it more. I had Journal 3 the whole time you were gone, I think you need a place to write about your own adventures, and a place for you to write down all of our new ones. I knew I felt better about stuff when I wrote it down. Also it's from the multi-verse! It's like a souvenir!" 

He clutched the book to his chest, blush running across his cheeks. He didn't have to say anything. She knew how much he loved it. 

Later on, there was a moment when Mabel thought Stan was going to give up the Shack forever and retire. But he couldn’t do that to her, to everyone else! Not after everything that happened. It was more home to her than anything else. Instead, he gave it to Soos so that he could sail around on the Stan O’ War II with Ford. He promised that he’d pick up the kids over winter break and they could sail to some far off and mysterious place. In the meantime he would write, and maybe learn how to use a computer or a cell phone.

She took the memory eraser ray from Dipper when he wasn’t looking and broke it in private, out back behind the Shack and shoved the pieces underneath the porch. She cried a lot while doing it. But she couldn’t look at that wretched thing anymore. She just couldn’t. She needed to know it was gone. That it would never hurt Dipper, or Stan, or anyone ever again. She dried her tears with the back of her sleeve, sucked in some good breaths, and went back to finish out the party with her usual vigor.

Then it was time to go. The last day felt more like a dream, a passing moment that was there and then gone again. She pulled the rest of her things from the empty bedroom. Dipper helped her carry some suitcases so that when they came home, it would appear that he actually had things (and that they weren’t tucked away in a box in his closet). She stared at it, two empty beds instead of one. Dipper hugged her from behind when she wasn’t looking. They stayed like that for awhile.

The goodbyes were so painful, but liberating in a way. It was nice to know that goodbye didn’t actually mean goodbye for once. Everyone came to see them off. She hugged Candy and Grenda. Dipper and Wendy had a quiet but powerful moment, just for themselves. She thought Soos would hold them captive forever instead of letting them leave. Ford was so delicate, hugged them both, and touched their hair. Promised that he’d send them letters, and notes, and gifts from everywhere he went.

Saying goodbye to Stan hurt like shoving a hot knife through her heart. He knelt down in front of them, so that all their brown eyes met. “Kids, you knuckleheads were nothin' but a nuisance and I'm glad to be rid of ya.” The way she latched to him and cried. Not a scorning wail or shriek, but overpowering and full of love.

“We’ll miss you too, Grunkle Stan,” she said. He kissed her forehead, and cupped one hand to Dipper’s cheek to feel how warm he was.

He chuckled, unwilling to tear his fingers away from them. "We did it, huh kiddo? We brought our brothers home." Mabel traced her fingers on his.

And then Dipper looked at her. He adjusted his pine tree hat, the most sacred object shared between both twins, and looked at the bus. “Ready to head into the unknown?” His fingers brushed the back of her wrist.

She shook her head and let out a wispy smile. “No. Let’s do it.”

The boarded, waving tearful but hopeful goodbyes. They’d see them next summer. And the summer after that. There was no way they could pick up and move on from Gravity Falls. Their house was in Piedmont, but this was their home now.  

As the bus started to depart from Gravity Falls, Mabel pulled her knees up, cuddling Waddles close to her chest as he snoozed. She looked at Dipper. He had pulled a pen out of his vest and gnawed on it ferociously. Some habits just don’t die. “Are you nervous?”

He took the pen from his teeth. “I don’t know what to expect. I still don’t know why this happened or how they forgot. Why does only Gravity Falls remember? Why couldn’t I just start over? If there is some godlike axolotl in the sky, why didn’t it make it so Bill never killed me?”

She stoked Waddles’ ears and muttered, “I think I know.”

Dipper’s eyes widened and his bottom lip dropped. “You do?”

“Because it’s Gravity Falls. Ford once told me that the town was a magnet for things that were special. This weirdness, it all gets stuck inside like a snowglobe. Like how you and Bill couldn’t leave during Weirdmaggedon. I don’t think you can erase the memory of what happened to you. The town wants to remember.” She sighed and leaned back against the uncomfortably hard seat. “I  remember is that when you were first gone, that I had this crazy idea to pray to the giant sky salamander to bring you back. Maybe this is all part of that weird multi-verse stuff. It sounded stupid at the time to think that any of this could be true, but now I know it was real. And I got my wish. In the most bonkers way, I got it.”

Dipper groaned, burying his hands in his face. Then he laughed--like really laughed. “This stuff makes my brain hurt. Dimensions, gods, and weirdness magnets. And that’s coming from me of all people. I think we’ve earned a healthy dose of normal reality.”

“Well get ready for your medicine, bro-bro. Because we have one whole school year of normal to get through.”

“Ugh. I’d rather die than go to school tomorrow.” He pulled an ironic grin.

Mabel slapped his shoulder. “You scallywag! Don’t you dare start making those jokes now!”

As the bus drove off down the seeming endless roads, Dipper folded himself against her shoulder, the bump of the bus knocking his head against her chin. The reflection of pine trees and the dark setting sun ghosted across his skin. And for a moment she feared there was still a yellow overcast to those soft brown eyes. A haunting that would never go away. He must have seen the way she looked at him. “We’ll work through this together, Mabel. I’m not going anywhere ever again.” He smiled at her like the final sunset of summer. Her twin brother. Back from the dead. “I’ll always be right here.” Mabel’s smile was more like the morning, as she pressed her cheek to his head, knowing that in a few minutes they would both ease into a deep and dreamless sleep.

And there was no more wishing. 

 

 **Doo lv zhoo, wkh vxpphu'v grqh.**  
**D qhz dgyhqwxuh kdv mxvw ehjxq.**  
**Grq'w jlyh xs rq zkdw brx zlvk iru,**  
**Brx'oo jhw brxuv--dqg vr pxfk pruh.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! My heart feels full to have completed (and edited) my fanfic masterpiece. 
> 
> This fic holds a lot of meaning to me, some of it very personal and some of it very fun and public. I often think about wanting to continue it, and maybe I will. Maybe a little something to tell you how they're doing. There's so much to explore in the lives of these characters. Heck, I almost set it up that the ending wasn't so happy. But I realized that justice was due. It was time for something good to happen. 
> 
> But there is that fascinating line in there when Mabel thinks about the alternate dimensions... perhaps all my fanfics are connected...
> 
> Actual date of publication Nov 10, 2017  
> Date of edits April 1, 2018


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